


The trial's "gift"

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Demon!Dean, Other, Trials, angel!Sam, demon!Sam, hybrid!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:20:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam discovers Dean is a demon, he will do anything to fix his brother. Including curing him and finishing the trials. However, with Dean being a knight of hell, the cure only gives him back his conscience and emotions since he is too far from being human. The gates of hell have not closed due to the lack of a completely cured demon, Sam is dead (or is he?), and Dean has no idea what to do.....until Cas arrives at the bunker with an unconscious man that doesn't know his own name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam shifted the weight of his feet, his eyes locked on the summoning ritual that would soon manifest the king of hell. His heart beat at an inappropriately normal pace. Dean was dead. Shouldn't he be breaking down? No, he's done that before. He shook his bangs out of his dead, determined eyes. They would reveal no warmth until his brother had a steady pulse and a cocky grin that caused Sam to feign annoyance, when in reality he lived for the days that that smile fought through the hopelessness, that the Winchester's often felt, and made an appearance.

The corners of his mouth yearned to lift at the memory of his brother's smirk, his forever bright, green eyes, even the deep lines of his face that told a story of loss and perseverance. Anything that would diminish the flattening weight in his chest and show him that Dean was alive and kicking. He would not allow himself to reminisce in Dean's memory. That would mean acceptance of his death, and Sam vowed that that would not happen. This wouldn't be like when Dean was in purgatory, he refused to give up on his brother this time.

Sam blinked to clear his vision. Before him was a sharply dressed Crowley, his face revealing no emotion. "'Ello, moose. Care to explain why I'm here?" He questioned in a British accent. His eyebrow lifted in what appeared to be curiosity. Sam snorted and averted his eyes in a half roll. A mocking, cold smile played on his lips. "Cut the crap, Crowley. You KNOW why You're here. Bring him back." The demon chuckled ominously. He folded his hands over each other and strolled along the edges of the devils trap he was stuck in.

Sam's lips pressed together. His body shook with repressed emotion. Rage, determination, fear, denial, and grief nudged the thin barrier of his mind, anticipating the moment of their escape through the floodgates. "Somethin' funny?" Sam demanded with his voice containing the slightest hint of a warning to not screw with him. Crowley's smile widened as his gaze drooped lazily to the floor. His shoulders rolled smoothly in a relaxed shrug. "Well..." He began. "It's just....I can't technically claim your soul when the thing you wish to sell it for has already been...fulfilled." His shark-like grin crinkled his face.

Sam's brow drew together. His lips parted slightly, a vortex of words fighting to cram themselves up his throat and be spat at Crowley. He was torn between disbelief and hope. Why would Crowley deny the soul of a Winchester if he was lying? But if he were telling the truth, what would be the point in offering the information? What would he gain from Dean being alive? "What?" Slipped from Sam's mouth before he could prevent it. He could hear his heart frantically beating in the silent room. Crowley straightened his tie with his thumb and index finger. "Why not go visit brother dearest? Have a family reunion." He suggested suspiciously. Sam bit his lip for a millisecond before spinning on his heel and striding from the room.

As soon as Crowley was out of earshot, Sam quickened his pace to a jog, his overheated mind screaming at him to reach Dean's room. He huffed out breaths that failed to calm him. His legs stretched as he began sprinting, his hair whipping behind him. Screw it, Sam thought. Hope had swelled within him, lighting his long since burnt out passion for life. "DEAN?!" He called out, his voice wavering. He knew he must have appeared pathetic, buying into the king of hell's words, screaming for his dead brother, but in that moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was the chance of Dean living once again. Once Dean's bedroom was in sight, he stopped dead in his tracks.

What met Sam's eyes horrified him, threatened to suffocate him. His body tensed at the sight of Dean, alive, leaning against the doorframe, his legs crossed casually and his shirt partly unbuttoned, revealing his unscathed anti-possession tattoo. For the first time in years, his face was completely care free. A malevolent smirk possessed his once playful smile. The part that weakened his knees and set him into a world compiled of the words "no" and "impossible" were the set of eerie, black eyes spilled over Dean's normally green ones. His eyebrows shot up. "Hey Sammy. So, what's new with you?" He asked patronizingly. 

Sam's jaw dropped, his chest tightening with anguish. He was speechless.


	2. Chapter 2

"But-how? W-was it the mark?" Sam sputtered. His head throbbed and caused him to sway on his feet. His hand gripped the wall until his knuckles were white to keep himself steady. Dean just stood there watching him as if he were watching an amusing show. His liquid-black eyes analyzed every visible part of him. This Dean was cruel and calculating. This Dean thought himself above everyone and everything. This Dean sent chills through Sam as if he sucked the warmth from the air around him. He swiped his tongue over his cracked lips and lifted a shoulder.

"Yup. The mark made me into this beauty." His gritty voice dripped with sarcasm and yet held a sense of awe. He gestured to his eyes with one of his hands. Sam knew he needed to act fast. He had to save Dean from being this. A thought suddenly wriggled its way into his mind. He could cure a demon. The only problem was getting Dean to go with him to a church. Sam sighed deeply. The first part of his plan was a bit risky. He took a shaky step towards the demon. "So, I'm guessing your gonna want to go on a killing spree like your average demon now, right?" He forced the poisoned words past his uncooperative lips, hoping, praying, that Dean would say no. Desperate for him to still be himself. 

Dean's nose crinkled with what could only be described as disgust. His skin almost rippled as the beast under it stirred with anger. "I'm not "your average demon". I am so. Much. More." He spat Sam's own words back at him like an unwanted gift. He took a steady step forward. "My mistake" Sam held himself back from hissing the words like he normally felt the need to with demons. The lights in the dim hallway flickered, casting them into a temporary night. Sam glanced up. When his gaze returned to his brother, Dean wore an unattractive sneer. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. This was not his brother. He took a large step forward. Him and Dean were now only a few feet apart. "But anyways" Sam continued cautiously. He took two steps forward. Cas, are you there? I need your help, Sam prayed. He was on the brink of begging the angel to hear him. If you hear this, Dean's a demon. I have a plan, but I need you.

\--------------------------

Sam continued moving closer to Dean until they were almost nose to nose. What was he playing at? "But anyways" Sam drew the words out. Dean could practically smell his fear. His cold eyes searched Sam's for a reason behind his actions. Dean knew he was planning something. "It's almost poetic for your first kill as a demon to be your brother" Sam stated solemnly. Before he could react, his elbow was being gripped in strong hands and jerked forward. Sam grunted, his voice a deep growl that screamed he was in pain. Dean's hand clenched around the first blade, the surface slick with hot liquid. He yanked it back, a sucking noise popped in his ears. A whine escaped Sam's lips. He turned his face down to see Sam's quivering hands pushing on a bloody stab wound. 

With every shaky exhale, more blood poured between Sam's fingers. Through the thick fog of shock, Dean distantly heard the clicking sound of his eyes returning to their natural green. Something unidentifiable within him fought to break free, it tore at his heart, screaming to be recognized. The feeling was an itch he couldn't scratch and it was caused by the fatal looking wound in his brother's abdomen. Sam's hands shot to Dean's shoulders and he dug his fingernails into the fabric of his shirt. Everything about the action informed Dean that Sam needed stability.

Without a seconds hesitation, he wrapped his arms around his sickeningly pale little brother and lowered him to the floor. He gaped at him incredulously. A vein in Sam's neck stood out. Dean's brow drew together and his face twisted into one of pure horror. "Why the hell did you do that?!" He yelled pointedly in Sam's face. The tension in his muscles made it clear that the man was in agony. He made pitiful choking noises before he could form coherent words. "B-before I die, t-take......me to-to th-the church.......Dean, if the-there's any of y-y-you left-t in there.......please" Sam gasped ragged breaths with each word. Dean's heart and head fought for control of him. He blindly wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and helped him to his feet. The most merciful thing to do would be end his suffering right now, his head suggested. 

He's Sammy, his heart stated with a rock hard resolve. The name flooded him with so many memories. He felt the faint sensation of a ghost of love. "Sammy...." He gently breathed out the nickname as him and Sam sluggishly shuffled through the bunker. The word had left him easier than any other, it was simple to say. It was as natural and important as breathing. And suddenly something clicked. Sam wanted to go to the church. The church was where he had attempted to cure Crowley. Dean tore his arm from Sam, rage shooting through him as Sam slumped to the floor with a loud thump. He gasped a bit, his eyes widening.

And just like that, darkness yet again enveloped Dean. His eyes clicked black and he eyed his younger brother with hatred. "You were gonna try to cure me" he accused, his lip curling in disgust.

\-----------------------------

Everything had been going so well. Dean had been almost himself when he saw Sam's wound. He had been about to drive them to the church. That is, until the pieces of the puzzle clicked together and he understood Sam's intentions. Now he was dying on the floor, failure seeping from every blood stained pore. It was a long shot. He figured he would die from the trials anyways, so why not do something drastic to pull Dean back into reality? What was the point of living when Dean was this thing anyways?Sam sighed in defeat. His eyes drooped closed, the pain stripping him from consciousness. His body was being rubbed against sand paper, lit on fire, carved with millions of microscopic knives. I'm sorry, Dean, I'm sorry I couldn't save you, he thought miserably. Then the sound of hope registered to his ears. He snapped his eyes open just in time to see Cas ram his fist into Dean's jaw.

Dean stumbled backwards, his hand reaching to rub the bruise that was already blossoming on his skin. Before Dean could stop him, Cas clamped the demonic handcuffs to his wrists. He gently laid his red-knuckled hand on Dean's shoulder and disappeared. Sam allowed his eyes to close to slits. Before he knew it, he was unconscious. He dreamt of nothing but floating in black nothingness. He was nonexistent. He wondered if he was dead. He was proven wrong when he came rushing back to his body.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Sam noticed was muffled voices. It was as if they were passing through an ocean before reaching his ears. Or maybe a thick cloth? Or glass. Why are they so hard to hear? Sam wondered curiously. He strained his ears until the words went from being a string of incoherent sounds to letters that bunched together to create meaning. "Sam is dying, Dean. I can't heal him due to my grace fading. Demon or not, you must care somewhat?" The voice was a deep rumble of thunder. It was also somehow soft, but carrying too much frustration and exasperation. Cas? "Actually, he's gonna try to cure me, so he just did me the biggest favor by killing himself. Remind me to thank him when-sorry, I mean IF he wakes up." The words were spoken by a sharp tongue, they were formed around what sounded like mock giddiness. There was a dark energy that crackled with each syllable. Something that made the hairs on his neck stand up.

Even through the infinite layers of hatred and coldness, Sam would always be able to make out Dean's low, gritty voice. The second thing he became aware of was the pain. A stab wound, if he remembered correctly. Waves of nausea and exhaustion, despite just waking up, rolled over him mercilessly. A pained groan vibrated his chest. He heard feet shuffling towards him. The next thing he knew, muscular arms had propped him up. His eyes opened to slits, rewarding him with the blurred image of Cas. He could see enough behind him to recognize that they were in the church where Sam attempted to cure Crowley.

"Hey" it came out cracked and weak. Sam wasn't entirely sure why he said it, but even in agony, the silence was killing him. The angel nodded awkwardly with a quick jerk of his head. "Hello, Sam. I have put a patch over your wound, but even with medical treatment, I'm not sure the damage can be undone." His face contorted to one of grief. His brow drew together, his lips pressing hard together, and his eyes grew double in size. "I-I'm sorry, Sam. You have been a good friend. Well....one of my only friends. I wish I could help you." He swallowed hard, his blue eyes dimming with what Sam assumed was regret and trepidation. "S'okay.....'l b'fine" Sam slurred tiredly with an unconvincing smile that failed to spread to his eyes.

He cleared his throat and jutted out his hand. "Help me up?" Sam requested sluggishly. Cas dug his fingers into the sleeve over Sam's arm. He gripped him tight and raised him from the floor. Sam swayed on his feet and took a second to fight the splitting headache and steady himself. He nodded appreciatively and walked to the front of the church. Even with the patch, he felt the need to put pressure on the wound, however, he needed his hands free. Sam's eyes were drawn to the empty needles. He grazed his fingers over them, knowing that if the trial's themselves weren't already going to kill him, the blood loss combined with the wound would. He clenched his eyes shut, making peace with his oncoming death. It's for Dean, he mentally told himself.

When Sam returned from asking forgiveness of his sins, he found a genuine smile creeping onto his thin face. It shone for Dean and the knowledge that he would be alright. Sam injected the needle into his arm, ignoring the prick of pain that now seemed like nothing compared to the stab wound. He turned and strode over to Dean. Just as Crowley had been, he was restrained in a chair within a devils trap, wrist chains and a metal collar littering him with various marks and symbols. His black eyes glared at him. Without hesitation, Sam plunged the needle into Dean's neck, receiving no more than a missable flinch. 

Dean leaned into Sam's ear and whispered with a chilling voice. "You'll die before you're done with this, you know. And I will dance on your ashes, hell, I'll do the Macarena, I'll be so overjoyed. You know what? Screw the ashes. Maybe I'll just stomp on your rotten corpse 'til the blood oozes ou-" Sam tore away from him, unable to hear any more of his cutting words. Sam was horrified and apparently it was not very well hidden from his face considering Dean's reaction. He threw his head back and howled with laughter that left him gasping for air. Sam stepped back and slunk onto the ground. "I'll save you, Dean." He whispered softly, knowing Dean would hear him anyways.

Dean's face crumbled with disappointment at Sam's words. "Buzzkill. Gotta have you daily chick flick moments, eh Sammy?" He uttered grumpily. It was the way his name held the slightest remnant of affection that Forced Sam's head to snap up. Dean avoided eye contact after that.


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours and injections later Dean's head hung down to his chest while Sam sat in a similar position against a wall. Sam's breathing had become ragged and forced. An instinct in Dean whispered that Sam didn't have much time left. Dean had felt his humanity inching its way closer to him no matter how hard he fought it to stay away. Humanity meant pain, fear, and weakness. He found his heart clenching more and more at the sight of his dying brother. Sam had so much power resting beneath the surface, he could have been of use. Or at least that's what Dean told himself. Maybe it was just an excuse to keep Sam alive, he realized. Dean shook his head to rid himself of the thought. And then there was Cas. Poor, fading Castiel. The little angel who couldn't.

Also known as his former best friend. Dean could almost feel himself being split into separate parts. Half of him wanted Cas dead for bringing him here. The other, progressively stronger, half of him wanted nothing more than to lock him into a bone crushing hug and make some cocky remark to hide his emotions. Dean didn't want this. He didn't want to feel, to hurt. He longed to pierce flesh and breath in the sick scent of blood to satisfy his new bloodlust. He was at the same time repulsed by the desire. Dean lifted his head at the sound of boots weighing down on a wooden floor.

Sam loomed over him with a hand dripping crimson blood from the palm. He was absolutely horrible looking. His cheek bones were sharp, the area around his eyes seemed to sink in, and his skin had taken on an ashen color. His eyelids kept snapping open like he was desperately clinging to consciousness. Sam's hand lowered and hovered in front of Dean's face. He couldn't let Sam kill himself. "Sammy, no!" Dean begged. These were his first words in hours and they were inflated with the most genuine of love and care.

Sam's eyes briefly flitted to his, his face lighting up like he couldn't have wished for a better last moment of his life than Dean pleading for him to not sacrifice it. "Welcome back, Dean" he croaked with his broken voice. Dean's eyes shone with unshed tears. He was helpless as Sam sucked in a breath, slapped his bloody palm over Dean's mouth, and recited the latin words that would tie the trial's up with a nice bow. Sam's body exploded with light and Dean was blinded. He choked on sticky, warm blood as it dripped down his throat.

Dean screamed past the trembling hand covering his lips. He screamed in pain, defeat, joy, and finally, grief that was triggered by Sam's hand falling from his face as he collapsed. Dean's ears rang, it took him seconds to realize that he was screaming Sam's name. It took him even longer to absorb the information that he was no longer bound by metal, but by steel flesh that held him back from Sam's body (corpse). He wriggled from the grip of who must have been Cas and dropped to his hands and knees. His face slick with tears, he crawled over to Sam.

Dean took Sam's limp body and cradled him. Sobs shook his body and tore from his throat in the form of screeches, curses, and apologies. He somehow recognized that Cas was knelt beside him, his hand cupping his shoulder. Dean only squeezed Sam's midsection tighter, waiting for the impossible moment that Sam's hazel eyes would open and his dimples would flash at him. When the sobs died down to silent misery, Dean stroked Sam's overgrown hair. He only released the corpse when it grew cold and Cas zapped them back to the bunker.

\-----------------------------

Sam was nowhere and he was losing himself. His memories dwindled and faded, leaving unexplainable holes in his life. He was in agony. Two beings that should never be mixed touched within him. Wrong, wrong, he felt so very wrong. He was an abomination, something horrible that should never be. His back arched on the crunching, dead grass. He clawed viciously at his face, desperate to prevent what was happening. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Every fiber of his being was burning, deteriorating, dying. "DEAN!" The name ripped from his body, his voice scratchy and raw. Green eyes. Dean had green eyes. Right? Wait, did he? He screamed again, tears bleeding from his bulging eyes

The pain became unbearable. He strained his throat, but all that came out were strangled gasps. His eyes burned and melted, they sizzled angrily in their sockets. His vision was shifting from red to black to white. A high pitched whine had been ringing in his ears, hot blood pouring from them and dripping to the ground. Sam mentally sobbed and pleaded for it to end. Wrong. He felt so wrong.

\-------------------------

Dean wobbled on his feet in his bedroom. His head spun and lost its weight. His vision was blurred with tears. He forced air into his sore lungs, making an effort to just breath. Every breath was a new stab of pain in his heart. Breathe in, Sam died for me. Breathe out. Breathe in, Sam SACRIFICED himself for me. Breathe out. Breathe in, I should be dead, not Sam. Breathe out. Hold back a sob. Breathe in, I want to be with Sam in death. Wait for a tear to drip from my chin. Breathe in, breathe out. 

The cycle tore pieces of his soul to bits. "Dean, how are you feeling?" Cas asked in a dead, empty voice. Dean dropped onto his bed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "How do ya think, Cas?" Dean glared at him with a combination of anger and sadness. Cas swiftly moved in front of him, his face a mask of irritation. "I'm only trying to help. I know you are grieving, but you are not the only one. He was your brother, but he was also my friend." Cas fumed angrily. Dean blinked up at him, realization bleeding into his personal whirlwind of painful thoughts. Sam WAS Cas's friend. Dean decided he would not lash out at him again.

Cas slumped into the bed beside him, sighing heavily. "There is the matter of.....his body...." Cas softly muttered. "Bury him." Dean responded automatically. "I want his body intact for when I bring him back." Cas's head tilted to the side. His eyebrows raised in sympathy and his mouth turned down in a grim line. "How will you do that?" He asked. Dean simply shrugged, his body and exhausted weight. For moments, they just sat there staring at nothing. Dean jumped when Cas finally spoke. "There is something you should know" he said hesitantly.

Dean numbly turned to him. "What is it, Cas?" His voice was soft and vulnerable. "I'm afraid you are still a demon. It seems a knight of hell is too powerful to be cured. The ritual Sam attempted merely restored you to your previous state of mind. Gave you your conscience back." Cas spoke each word with Care and acceptance. Dean nodded, his heart heavy with self hatred. His mind kept wandering back to the traumatizing words he spoke to Sam in the church. His newly restored conscience wouldn't rest until his throat was slit by his own hand.

Somewhere in his brooding, Cas had disappeared, presumably to bury Sam's body. He was grateful that the angel hadn't asked him to come.


	5. Chapter 5

He was suspended in air. He was weightless, a billion pieces of him connecting and floating apart. He longed to sigh in relief that the pain was gone, but he found that he had no mouth. That was strange. He couldn't really see, yet he sensed beacons of stable light. Some glowed dimly, weakly. Others, however, were lit so intensely that they threatened to overwhelm him. He was drawn to the strong, bright lights like a moth to a flame. Whenever he neared one, he was overcome by a feeling of them being not right. There was always something off that sent him spiraling, searching for the light that belonged to him. 

He was beginning to panic. What if his light was gone? How would he find it if it wasn't? He imagined if he had a body, he would be sobbing. His entire being drooped with hopelessness. He was lost, confused, and alone. He felt like he wasn't always alone, but the thought slipped away before he could grasp it. 

\------------------------

Cas folded his heavy wings together when he arrived at the church. It was past midnight so the room was bathed in silver moonlight. He scanned the room, delaying the inevitable. He would have to gaze upon Sam's lifeless body. He would have to bury his corpse. Cas lowered his eyes to the ground. Grief was clenching at his heart. He was tempted to return to Dean and admit that he was a coward, that he couldn't face Sam's death, but that wasn't who he was. Perhaps he could even arrange a small funeral for the selfless hunter.

Cas huffed out a breath and drug his feet along the wooden floor. He inched his way to his dead friend. Cas shook his head in shame. He had to do this, for Sam AND Dean. A beam of shimmering, white light suddenly appeared near his shoes. His eyes swiveled, noticing the multiple beams of light scattering the floor, expanding and fading as if clouds were passing over them. He watched them curiously as they flickered. Cas lifted his head to find the source of the light. His breath hitched in his throat. What met his eyes was a demonic, ink black cloud of thick smoke with rays of white light breaking through it. At its core, Cas could barely make out an explosion of the white light.

The sound of an angel's voice rang in his ears, only it was too deep, too dark for him to understand the language. This thing was something new, something Cas had never come across. The light filled smoke radiated a sense of anxiety and pain. This immensely powerful creature was confused and hurting. Cas bored his eyes into it, searching it. His eyes widened in shock, his jaw went slack. "Sam?" He breathed out in disbelief.

\--------------------------

He was being tugged in the direction of a light that made even the strongest ones combined seem dark in comparison. It was pure. The light was his family. Or was it his enemy? Either way, he let himself be steered to the location of it. When he was at an appropriate distance from the light, he waited for it to acknowledge his presence. It grew brighter at his being there. And then they were intertwined, the lights consciousness entering his own. Half of him welcomed it, overjoyed by the connection. The other half nudged it away, fearing its power. 

He hesitantly made an attempt at an uncertain greeting to the light. It whispered a word to him, "Sam". He did not understand, but it was at that moment that he noticed the other, not as bright beacon of light in the area. It was perfect, it was his. Overjoyed, he reached out to the light until he was consumed by it. He was showered in warmth.

\-------------------------

Cas watched with a guarded stance as the light filled smoke jammed itself down Sam's bodies' throat. The light augmented and bathed Sam in a white glow. It swirled and danced as it disappeared into him. Cas's heart rate sped up, hope and horror dueling within him. The angelic ringing had faded, leaving the room eerily quiet. He knelt down and peered warily at Sam. He slowly straightened out his arm and pressed his index and middle finger to the side of Sam's neck. Cas was shocked and yet expectant of the steady plus throbbing against his skin. Cautiously, Cas slid his hand down to Sam's shoulder and squeezed. "Sam?" He breathed the name out. Underneath his eyelids, Sam's eyes were turning back and forth restlessly. 

Cas inched closer to his face. "Sam?" He repeated persistently. Sam's lips barely opened, a groan escaping them. His eyes gently fluttered open and he squinted at Cas. Cas merely stared at him, the shock still too fresh for him to think straight. He huffed out a breath when Sam's droopy eyes slid shut. Dean should know about this, Cas decided. He placed a hand on Sam's still cold shoulder and concentrated on Dean's bedroom in the men of letters bunker. Seconds later, his wings were stretched out and carrying his and Sam's weight. He turned his head to see a plain bedroom lit up by a lamp beside the bed Dean was laying motionlessly on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might be the last chapter because I'm being a lazy writer and I'm losing my inspiration on this fic. If anyone wants me to continue it, please let me know in the comments or something and I'll try to finish it :)

He was cold. Coldness fascinated him. It was a physical sensation besides the feeling of being split up into a billion pieces and floating. It bit at his icy body and tensed his muscles. He had missed having a body and now he felt whole. He felt.....himself. The only thing he felt hopeless towards was the feeling of being utterly alone. Something (someone) was not with him and that was unsettling. He needed...needed....well, he didn't know yet, but he would find out. "Cas?" A tired , drained voice whispered. "....Did you do it?" He questioned miserably. There was a sort of emptiness in his voice. "Dean, you need to see this." A different, more alert voice said urgently.

He opened his bleary eyes and sat up slowly. He waited for them to adjust and show him sharp, clear images. His brow drew together in confusion. He didn't know where he was. He looked down at his long, muscular legs and cocked his head. With difficulty and a graceless lack of balance, he pressed his palms to the floor and hefted himself up. He swayed on his weak legs that shook beneath him. "Sammy?" One of the voices whispered incredulously. He whimpered as his legs lost all strength and the floor rushed up to meet him.

\--------------------------

Dean had been laying in bed doing his best to not think. He didn't want to think of a cold, decomposing Sammy, he didn't want to think of him being a creature that he hunts, and he didn't want to think about the guilt that was tearing away at him. He had remained unmoving as his throat closed up and he choked on his own sobs. This whole situation was a screwed up mess that Dean didn't want to face. A few times he unintentionally thought about the first blade that was abandoned in the church and pictured it crusted with Sam's blood. That had brought on a violent fit of screaming breaking things. Once the anger faded, he had been exhausted. He laid in bed and didn't move until he heard the distinct sounds of angel wings. 

He could not bring himself turn his head to Cas, who was standing at his side. Dean released a deep sigh and whispered "Cas?" He hesitated a moment. "...did you do it?" He asked half heartedly. Part of him didn't want to know if his brother was buried or not. "Dean, you need to see this." Cas said hurriedly. His voice was commanding and strong. Dean sat up, curiosity and worry burning in his gut. He swung his legs off the bed, stood up, and froze. His eyes went impossibly wide and his heart hammered against his chest. Sam was only a few feet in front of him staring at his legs with a strained expression. And he was alive. Sam was ALIVE. "Sammy?" He whispered in wonder and disbelief. Sam didn't even glance up as his legs trembled. He made a small, innocent whimper that seemed impossible to have come from him.

His legs folded in on themselves and Dean reflexively sprung forward and caught his midsection. He turned his body and propped him up against the wall with little help from Sam. Dean got to his knees in front of him and cupped his face in his hands. He could feel tears welling up. "Sammy?" He repeated. Sam's eyes slid to his, suddenly full of fear. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His jaw clenched tightly. Sam's face scrunched together in confusion. "Cas, what the hell happened?" Dean almost yelled frantically while keeping his eyes on Sam. Cas kneeled down next to Dean and peered at Sam. "I'm not entirely sure. But Dean, he.....he isn't..." Cas pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes.

"Spit it out" Dean snapped. Cas turned to him. "He isn't human. He's possessing his own body." Dean's head whipped to the side to face him. "You better tell me everything you know" Dean demanded angrily. Cas blinked and explained to Dean what happened at the church. By the end, he was completely dumbstruck. He turned back to Sam and scanned his face. Every detail was so familiar, it was difficult to believe he could be anything but human. But then again, wasn't Dean something not human? "S-so he's some sort of-what?-angel demon hybrid?" Dean asked. "If I had to make an assumption, then I would have to say yes. But it's impossible, Dean. Sam already had demon blood in his system so it wouldn't be too difficult to make him one of them, but humans don't become angels." Cas shook his head wildly. "This shouldn't be possible" he whispered. 

Sam stretched his mouth open like he wanted to join the conversation, but couldn't force the words out. He lifted his hands and wrapped them around his throat. He made strangled gasping noises, then huffed in frustration. "What's wrong with him? Why can't he talk?" Dean directed his question at Cas. "I'm not sure." He responded. Cas shifted his body. "Wait, there was an old biblical myth that might be about the trials." Dean held his breath. "Well what is it?" He asked. "It said "when the doors are sealed, a gift will be given to man whom is selfless and he will be reborn". I can't believe I hadn't thought of this until now. It makes perfect sense. The human that closes the doors to hell will be given the gift of being reborn as an angel." Dean licked his lips and blinked rapidly.

"So what happens if said reborn angel grew up with demon blood in him?" Cas gestured to Sam with his hand. "I don't know anything about what Sam now is, Dean. All I know is that he probably can't talk because he has never had a vessel, especially one in such a weakened state. It will take time. It also may have something to do with most of his memories wiped from the process of dying and being reborn" Dean turned to him. "But this isn't exactly his first time dying and he's always come back with his memories" Dean argued. "That was different. He was resurrected in the past, but this time he was reborn." Cas muttered. Dean reached out a hand and stroked Sam's hair. "We'll figure this out, Sammy." He said confidently. Sam just continued to stare at him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'm continuing this story after all (for at least a chapter or two) so....yeah here ya go

The two men had been muttering odd, jumbled together sounds and glancing at him for quite a while. He had simply watched them curiously and attempted to decipher the impossible code with which they were communicating. They whispered the sound "Sam" almost every other sentence it seemed. Perhaps if he spoke it, he would understand the code? He slumped lower against the wall, his eyebrows drawing together in response to his predicament. There was no guarantee something like that would work. But then again, what was the harm in trying? He wasn't sure what these two's intentions were, but he planned on finding out. The men were across the room from him, one leaning casually against the wall (odd for somebody who seemed so troubled) and the other stood stiffly in front of him. They both wore expressions of confusion and anxiety, although it seemed the one with the green eyes revealed more emotion. Emotions, what an odd concept. What would cause those? The one with the green eyes shot an obvious look at him and quickly turned back to the blue eyed man. "Well what the hell do we do with him for now? We don't know how he thinks, how he'll react to anything, we've got squat, Cas." The green eyed one grumbled irritatedly with a sense of dread. "When I searched his mind in the church, he seemed....joyful. Exhilarated, puzzled, but mostly curious. I don't think we will have to worry about him reacting too badly to anything. It's almost as if his thinking is similar to a young child's." The blue eyed man replied cooly. The green eyed one's tenseness seemed to slightly melt away at this. His feet shifted their weight and he chewed on his lip uncertainly before speaking. "Kids have tantrums. If he's thinkin' like a kid, who's to say he won't have a meltdown?" The green eyed one countered with a gleam in his eye that seemed to challenge the blue eyed man.

The blue eyed man ran the palm of his hand over his stubbled face wearily. He narrowed his eyes at the green eyed one grumpily, but not without understanding. "He's metaphorically just been born, Dean. He is not the equivalent of a human child, he is intelligent.....but he is ignorant. Sam knows hardly anything about the world. That being said, he is smart enough to understand that a tantrum would gain him nothing." He explained smartly. The two men searched each other's faces while immersing deeper into their own thoughts. He supposed now was an adequate time to grab their attention. He blinked several times and inhaled a strong breath, not knowing how much of it he would need to speak the "Sam" sound. He parted his lips slowly and cautiously unclenched his teeth. He located the feeling of where he thought the sound would come out and forced out the beginning part of the sound. "Sssss" he lightly pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and breathed. The two men didn't take notice or react to the soft noise. "Sss-aaa-mmm" he spoke a bit louder, his voice cracking somewhere in the middle. It was sloppy and not nearly as comfortable sounding coming from him rather than the other two, but it was enough to cause them both to turn to him with bewildered expressions. The green eyed one stepped forward and kneeled in front of him, his face morphed into a mask of shock. "Sam?" He addressed incredulously. Why was the man repeating what he had just said? Maybe that was a part of his communication...."S-sam?" He imitated, mocking the green eyed man's solemn expression dramatically. He slightly turned his head to the side, widened his eyes, and pressed his lips together.

The green eyed man's eyebrows shot up and wrinkled his forehead. "I-is he...copying me?" He gawked disbelievingly. The blue eyed man slowly made his way to them. He seemed to be in deep thought, calculating. "It seems so. Perhaps he is attempting to learn? Or communicate." He reasoned with a deep, raspy voice. The green eyed man seemed to consider something for a moment before narrowing his eyes and wetting his lips nervously. The man looked him in the eyes with an intense yet caring gaze. "Sam, can you say Dean?" The man's eyes turned to the side and his face scrunched together. "I sound like I'm talking to a two year old" he commented with a pout. He curiously tilted his head to the side, unsure if he could repeat all of those sounds. He gave the green eyed man a facial expression carved out of uncertainty and confusion. "Sammy, at least you've still got those puppy dog eyes" he said with a humorless chuckle and horribly sad eyes. Why did the man appear unhappy? Something in his chest tightened uncomfortably. He decided to just repeat the last sound. "Deeaan-nn" he forced out. There was something familiar and warming about it that he didn't understand, but it filled him with light and joy and a feeling of safety. He allowed his mouth to lift into a large euphoric grin. The man's eyes lit up with approval. "Good, that's real good, Sammy" he praised lovingly. The blue eyed man suddenly appeared beside them and peered at him curiously. "There might be something I could try" he offered. The green eyed man turned to him. "I'm guessing it wouldn't give him his memories back?" He said gravely. 

"I'm afraid not." The blue eyed one replied disappointedly. "But I could try uploading the English language into his mind so we can communicate properly" he added softly. The green eyed one shrugged nonchalantly. "Go for it" he suggested calmly even though he showed every sign of anxiety and reluctant hope. The blue eyed man leaned in close and set his index and middle fingers on his head. The same bright consciousness from before slithered into his mind. Before he could react, an unsteady stream of knowledge and words and sounds were pumped into him. He felt his eyes swiveling all across the room, overwhelmed with all of the new information. The man took his fingers away from his head and retreated to a standing position. For a moment there was silence between the three of them. "Did it work?" The green eyed man wondered. "Did what work?" He asked curiously with his eyebrows drawn together. It took him a moment to realize the words had come from himself. The green eyed man's jaw loosened and his face smoothed over. "Sammy" he whispered softly. Sammy....that sounded like a name. But who's name was it? "Who's Sammy? That is a name, right?" He found himself asking. The green eyed man appeared struck and hurt at his words. At least he knew he was communicating correctly. "Um-uh it's you. Yo-your name is Sam." He stumbled over his words in shock. He-Sam?-nodded with uncertain acceptance. There was something about the man that made him trust him unconditionally. He felt like....family. Sam's lips widened into a stretching, bright smile. "And you are the green eyed man. Is that your name?" He asked.

The green eyed man's expression dripped with pain and loss. What did he lose? Sam wondered if he could somehow get it back for him. He just wanted the man to be happy, to smile. "No, my name is Dean. And that-" he pointed his index finger to the blue eyed man. "-is Cas" he informed him. "Oh" Sam simply replied. The green ey-Dean watched him miserably. "I'm sorry" the words spilled from Sam's mouth before he could contain them. Dean and Cas both gazed at him with a lack of understanding. "For what?" Dean asked. That was a good question. Why was he apologizing? "I-I don't know....it seems as though when I speak, you get upset. I guess I just don't want you to be upset" he replied."I don't know why though" Sam added quickly. Dean fixed a hard expression on him that appeared to shroud his unstable emotions. Dean seemed to make a decision and nodded. "It's not your fault. There are just some things you...forgot" Dean spoke cautiously. "What things?" Sam asked without a trace of graveness. "We'll get to that later" Dean promised sincerely. Sam bobbed his head up and down excitedly. He was bubbling over with giddiness at the fact that there would be a "later" with Dean. He liked him, he also liked his new body and wherever they were and Cas.


	8. Chapter 8

"What exactly do you remember, Sam?" Dean interrogated with a creased brow and tight eyes. Sam's face pinched with concentration as he stared down at his lap. He contemplated how to word the answer and finally responded. "pain. And then I didn't have a body and there were all these lights..." He vividly remembered the feeling of being burnt to a crisp and made whole again just to be poisoned with something acidic and dark and destructive. He remembered digging his nails into the dead grass as blood ran from every pore in his body. "Did It hurt here?" Dean asked as he poked Sam in the abdomen. He jumped at the unexpected touch, but quickly recovered. "No" he answered simply. "Where then?" Dean questioned curiously and maybe even with a little fear. "Everywhere." He responded bluntly. Sam's hand slid to the spot Dean had poked and he lifted his shirt up. He cocked his head at the thick, roundish scar and lightly ghosted his finger over it. He slowly dropped the fabric back down and tilted his head up to Dean.

"What happened?" Sam abruptly asked. Dean swallowed a lump and flicked his eyes away then back. "You just...you got hurt. It's no big deal." He answered with a stiff shrug. Sam nodded acceptingly. Dean cleared his throat and continued. "Is that it?" He asked disappointedly. Sam nodded again. "Alright. You wanna try getting up?" Dean suggested softly. Sam placed his palm on the wall behind him and struggled to lift his weight without responding. His legs wobbled weakly and he let out a small gasp as they nearly threw him back onto the ground. Cas and Dean quickly stepped forward and steadied him with both of their hands. As soon as Cas touched him, there was a feeling of incompletion. Like something was missing.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, he hardly noticed as he was sat on the edge of the bed. Cas began stepping back, but Sam caught his arm and held him there. Cas tensed like he wasn't sure of Sam's intentions, but he didn't try moving away. Sam's brow creased in concern. "What's gone?" He asked worriedly. Cas's lips tightened as he glanced back at Dean. On instinct, Sam lifted his hand and swiftly pressed his index and middle finger against Cas's forehead. He could see Dean quickly stepping forward out of the corner of his eye, but his focus was locked on Cas and the vital piece of him that wasn't there. Something In him suddenly shifted and his body jerked with the kick it brought. "Sam, hey, let him go. Sam, let go of him." Dean's voice rose with agitation as he tugged at Sam's wrist. Sam effortlessly kept the fingers firmly pressed to Cas's forehead and watched his eyes widen with surprise. Sam felt something slither under his skin, in his veins, through the energy that vibrated from him. The feeling twisted and swam down his arm, over his hand, through his fingers, and right into Cas. When it had all left him, his hand dropped lethargically and he found his eyelids drooping. His body sagged and he concentrated on not falling over as he was drained of energy.

Cas stumbled away with an expression of wonder and astonishment and gratitude. "Cas, what the hell? What did he do?" Dean demanded, his muscles tensed and his jaw clenched. Cas's mouth worked for a moment, opening and closing soundlessly until he composed himself. He blinked away most of the surprised and answered. "I...I think he restored my grace." Dean's brow knit together and his face twisted to one of bewilderment. It was obvious that there were a thousand questions swirling around in his head. With raised eyebrows, he incredulously questioned, "How the hell can he do that?" His voice was strained with stress. Cas's shoulders lifted in a simple shrug and he responded, "He's something new, Dean. I have no idea what he's capable of." At this, Dean seemed to deflate. Sam finally lost the fight to exhaustion and fell back on the bed. He managed to keep his eyes open to slits as Dean bent down next to him. "Sam? You okay? Cas, what the fuck is wrong with my brother?" He growled. Sam's vision wavered and he allowed his eyes to close. "After completing a task requiring such power...he's probably drained. He needs to rest." Cas answered, his voice still infused with a bit of awe.

"Wha's happenin' to me?" Sam slurred. He didn't want to leave Dean and Cas, but everything was going dark and he couldn't pull himself back to his body. A flutter of fear spread through him. "It's okay, Sammy. You're just gonna sleep. It's okay, everyone does it." Dean quickly assured him. "Don't wanna go." Sam whispered brokenly. He didn't know where sleep would take him. What if he ended up back in the place with the dead grass that had caused him pain? What if he lost his body? Suddenly there was a warm hand gripping his own and he felt grounded. "It's alright. You need to rest. I won't leave, okay? Just sleep." Dean softly soothed. Sam felt safe with Dean's presence. He attempted a nod and let the nothingness swallow him.

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White skin so pale it felt as if she was wrapped in a sheet of moonlight. Eyes shadowed and nearly black if it weren't for the flicker of fire sparking next to her head and lighting up the irises. Blonde hair somehow sticking to the ceiling and leaving the terror on her face fully exposed. Hot blood spilled from her nightgown through a gash that hadn't been there a moment ago. Her lips twitched to form a word. A name. "Sam" her voice broke with fear and misery. It was her calling to him, begging for help. But iron arms restrained him. His mouth stretched around his teeth, not enough room to scream the word. The word that was so immense and important and urgent but he couldn't open his mouth wide enough for the largeness and intensity of the girl's name to escape. It turned into a whisper, the last of an airy breath crying out the name. 

Sam regained control of his Limbs slowly. He twitched his finger and then made a fist. "Sammy? You back with me?" Dean's voice asked urgently. Sam lolled his head to where he thought the voice was coming from. He peeled his eyes open and was welcomed by the sight of Dean's frantic expression, eyes wide and mouth clamped tightly shut. "Yes." He answered shortly. He realized that he was shaking, but he kept his eyes on Dean's. The fear grief had become physical and he didn't understand what had happened. "Where was I?" He asked with a small voice. Dean blinked at him confusedly then swallowed hard. "You were dreaming. It's just your mind playing out a kind of story. Do you remember what it was about?" He asked hopefully. Sam shook his head as his eyes widened. He didn't want to relive the sad girl burning above him. "I-I do, but...I can't. I can't. Dean, don't make me go back. Please." Sam begged as warm tears spilled over his cheeks. 

His breath was uneven and his chest hitched as he began sobbing. He froze as strong arms wrapped around his back and Dean laid his chin on Sam's shoulder. He wasn't sure why he was so upset, but seeing the girl with so much pain and suffering had twisted and cut into him torturously. He wanted her safe, happy, with him, and he didn't even know why. "Who is she?" The words slipped from his mouth as he mumbled into Dean's shoulder. "You said her name while you were sleeping. Try to remember." Dean nearly pleaded into Sam's ear. Sam nodded slowly and reluctantly pulled his mind back into the dream. He watched in agony as her face contorted with pain and the flames cooked her tender skin. He almost felt his mouth dance around the word escaping it repeatedly. His throat was raw and his lips moved awkwardly like the name had become nothing but animalistic, desperate screeches. Jess. Jess. Jessica Moore. Jess. Jessica. Her smile, her laugh, her golden hair that was singed away, her hands stroking his cheek lovingly when he was sad. 

He didn't realize that he was screaming the name until Dean hugged him tighter and began whispering something in his ear. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry I made you think about it, I'm sorry, but you remembered her, that was good, you did good, holy shit, you remembered something, I'm sorry, man." He rambled breathlessly as Sam's sobs choked in his throat and became silent. "Jess" he whimpered one last time. "I know." Dean stated gravely. "I'm sorry" he whispered again as if his life depended on Sam knowing it. Sam would console him, but he couldn't. Not when a loop of Jess burning was currently playing in his mind

What if the images never stopped? What if he had to watch this girl, not just a girl, Jess, suffer forever? He couldn't breathe suddenly. He was in too small of a space and he needed air. The panic poisoned him Until he was gasping for oxygen. Dean pushed him away with a worried look and his mouth moved like he was about to talk, but the world melted away and he wasn't in the room anymore. He stumbled and his legs fell under him as he sunk to the ground. His head swam as he regained a bit of control over himself and breathed deeply.  
Once he felt as though he wasn't suffocating, he unsteadily got to his feet and blinked the blurriness out of his eyes. Something bright, too bright, shone painfully and he shielded his eyes with his arm. His head spun in a confused vortex. Slowly, he lowered his arm and squinted up at the white-yellow sphere. A word popped helpfully into his mind; sun. That was the sun that he was staring into. After a moment, his eyes watered and he shifted his gaze down to the ground. He blinked wildly at the sidewalk that he could hardly see through the dark spot in his vision. 

A loud rumbling screech sounded in his ears and his muscles tensed in response. His eyes flicked up and he rubbed them in an attempt to rid himself of the obscuring sunspot (he thought that was what it was called). Footsteps clanked against the sidewalk and approached him. "Hey, you alright? You don't look too good." A worried feminine voice asked. Sam looked up and dropped his hands to his sides. A woman with a slightly pointed face and short brown hair (she looked to be in her late twenties) was gazing at him with a drawn brow and pursed lips. "I-I don't...know.......I need to find Dean. I don't know where Dean is, he was just there and now I'm here and I don't know how to get back to Dean and Cas." He explained, his voice picking up speed with every word. Suddenly impacted by the realization, Sam drew in short breaths and whipped his head back and forth as if Dean would just appear. He felt tears prickling in his eyes and his throat closing up. The girl's eyes widened in surprise and she stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but remained in place. "Woah, it's alright, I'll help you find Dean and Cas, okay?" She assured him with a squeeze of his shoulder. Sam realized she was waiting for a response and he nodded jerkily as his eyes filled to the brim and warm liquid ran down his cheek. She nodded back with a warm grin.

"My name's Jade. What's yours?" She asked calmly. Sam flicked his eyes to the side again and felt a swell of disappointment that Dean wasn't there. He quietly answered with, "Sam. Dean said I'm Sam. I believe Dean." Jade cocked her head to the side at that with slightly parted lips. He copied her confused expression, but she recovered her calm and kind manner. She released his shoulder and her hand slid comfortingly to his lower arm. "Sam, honey, do you have any idea at all where Dean last was? An apartment, a house number, a street name, anything?" She wondered with that small grin. "Umm...I-I don't...I-sorry-I'm not-" he sputtered helplessly as more tears pooled in his eyes. "Hey, it's okay, Sam. We're gonna find him. Do you wanna get in my car and we can drive around a little until you recognize something?" She offered. Sam shook his head and felt his lip wobble a bit. "I've never been out of the room-or at least not that I can remember. Dean said I forgot something." He mumbled the last bit and continued scanning the street for any sign of Dean or Cas.

He rested his palms on his forehead and resisted the sob crawling up his throat. He just wanted Dean to make him feel safe again and he wanted to lose the memory of Jess, but Jade at least made him feel less panicky. Jade opened her mouth then closed it again. She swallowed and finally asked, "hey, Sam, it seems like something might have happened to you, something that effected your memory. Would it be alright with you if I took you to the doctor? I know him and he's really nice. He could take a look at you and see if you have any head injuries." Sam considered for a moment, but shook his head. "I just need to find Dean." He mumbled.

Jade nodded a bit disappointedly and huffed out a long breath. "Well do you want me to sit and wait with you to see if Dean shows up?" She offered kindly. Sam nodded with his lips pulling up into a grateful smile. She perked up at the sight and her teeth shone in the afternoon sun. Sam lowered himself to the ground and Jade followed beside him. 

They sat still watching the street for a while until Jade spoke again. "Sam, if Dean doesn't show up soon, will you please go with me to a doctor? And after we get you looked at, I can take you to the police department and I'm sure they'll be much better at helping you find Dean." She added the last part quickly. Sam turned and looked at her, thinking, considering. He chewed on his lip and finally sighed. "Just a little longer. If he's still not here, I'll go." He reluctantly agreed. Jade smiled sadly and nodded once. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She seemed nice. Even the soft colors of her pale tank top and light jeans were soothing. Her lips twitched in thought and she shifted, digging in the front pocket of her pants. She pulled out what his mind told him was a cell phone (he wasn't sure what exactly it was) and swiped her fingers across the front. "What are you doing?" Sam wondered curiously.

Without looking up, she replied, "texting my boss to let him know that I won't be in for work today." She didn't seem mad, just accepting and infinitely kind. Sam's brow scrunched together in confusion. "Texting?" He worded confusedly. She quickly glanced up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Wow, you really did bump your head, didn't you? She said with a minute chuckle. Sam's expression dropped even more with misunderstanding. "I don't know." He answered simply and with a little frustration. Her smile slowly fell at this and she returned her focus to her phone.

"Sam," she began a little cautiously, "About how much do you remember? I mean from your life and all that?" She asked warily. She shifted uncomfortably and stuffed her phone back in her pocket. Sam clasped his hands together and nonchalantly answered, "I woke up today." Jade's head snapped up and she watched him with bewilderment. "...today? You only remember today?Sam, you should be in a fucking hospital! Not wandering the sidewalk alone and hoping this Dean guy finds you!" She yelled incredulously. Her round eyes were bright and intense. "Excuse my language." She added as a quiet afterthought. Sam frowned and stared thoughtfully at his hands. "I don't understand." He stated confusedly. Jade swallowed and seemed to gather herself together. "What do you not understand?" She asked patiently. "Hospital." Sam replied. Jade's brow creased and she seemed to think for a moment.

"Screw the doctor's office. Sam, I'm gonna take you to the emergency room, okay? Dean isn't here and you need help." She stated confidently. Sam shook his head and kept his eyes down. "Gotta wait for Dean." He mumbled. Jade sighed beside him and ran her fingers through her hair anxiously. Before she could continue attempting to convince him, sam startled at his name being yelled. Jade looked up too and searched the area with her gaze. "Sam!" It was closer this time. Sam jerked his head to the side and felt relief flood him when he caught sight of Dean and Cas jogging towards him. Sam smiled brilliantly and got to his feet. He sensed Jade doing the same behind him. "Dean" he almost breathed out. Dean stepped forward and without hesitation, pulled him into a long hug. Cas moved beside them a little awkwardly as they embraced. "So you're the Dean I've been hearing all about." Jade suddenly spoke up with a smile in her voice. Dean pulled away slowly and patted Sam on the arm. "Yeah. And you are-?" He questioned as he gestured to her. "Jade. I found Sam looking like he was close to losing it out here and we hung out until you showed up." She explained with her arms crossed over her chest. Dean nodded and gratefully replied, "Well thanks for keeping an eye on my brother, Jade. I appreciate it." 

He spun on his heel and said "c'mon, Sammy." Sam took a step forward but stopped when Jade spoke. "Woah, hey, hold up, you know what's going on with Sam, right?" She asked uncertainly and with discomfort. Dean turned back and responded a little irritatedly, "yeah, he's an amnesiac. It's a...recent development. But don't worry, I took him to a hospital and the doctor said that his memories should slowly start coming back." Sam knew he said that because of him remembering Jess. Jade instantly relaxed at the words. She nodded and held up her index finger. "One second." She quickly said before fast walking back to her car. Dean's jaw clenched with impatience as he awaited her return. She trotted back in front of him with a piece of paper and a pen. After scribbling something down, she held it out to Dean with her eyes locked on his. "My number," she explained, "in case Sam ever wants to talk or you guys need anything." She smiled vibrantly and Dean took the torn paper into his hand. "Thanks." He said with a quick smirk as he turned and gestured for Cas and Sam to follow him. "Bye, Jade." Sam said lightly and with as much gratitude as he could inject into it. Jade waved back, her smile widening, and she walked to her car.

Sam followed Dean and Cas back to Dean's car and slid into the front seat. Once they were on the road, Dean's grip on the wheel loosened. "Cas's slowly getting his mojo back, so he couldn't teleport us here, that's why it took so long." He explained shortly. Sam nodded and curiously watched the town pass through his window. "What the hell happened, Sam?" Dean spat out agitatedly. Sam shrugged and turned to him. His form was rigid, his jaw clenched tightly. He swallowed and stated, "I heard the wings. You zapped out of there, it's the only answer. But why?" He demanded stiffly. Sam thought back to the moment they were hugging and he had suddenly disappeared, "I thought I needed air and then I was outside." He slowly deduced. The lines in Dean's face darkened and his brow creased. "We're gonna get a handle on this. You're just gonna have to get better at controlling this shit, Sam." He said, his eyes still on the road. "I'm sorry." Sam apologized despairingly. He hadn't meant to make Dean upset. "It's okay, Sammy." Dean sincerely spoke. He absentmindedly crumpled the paper that Jade's number was on and tossed it between them. He didn't notice Sam retrieve it and stuff it into his pocket.


	9. Chapter 9

The drive back home had been short (Dean called the place 'the bunker'). It had been nearly silent too. Sam had learned that Cas was quiet in every sense of the word. He usually only spoke when it was important,  
never just for conversation, and his body language was stiff as if he didn't know how to be comfortable. He didn't fidget, he didn't watch the scenery through the windows, he simply stared ahead and awaited them reaching their destination. Sam, however, enjoyed the ride. He enjoyed the time to think and contemplate and wonder. He wondered if in his lost memories he had driven a lot. As his thoughts carried him further into his own head, he began wondering about himself. Dean had so many traits, so many habits, that it was a bit overwhelming and he couldn't keep up. He wanted to know if he had any of those. "what am I?" He suddenly blurted out, his racing mind jumping ahead of him. Dean glanced at him with a slightly nervous expression and flexed his fingers over the wheel. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Sammy." He answered vaguely as he intentionally focused on the road.

Sam blinked at him with an unwavering gaze and Dean shifted uncomfortably under it. "Well Cas-uhh-he said you're some kind of...", He made a meaningless gesture with his hand, "angel-demon hybrid...thing." He finished with eyes darting to Sam. Sam cocked his head and his forehead creased. "What's an angel-demon hybrid?" He asked curiously. Dean let his eyes close for a brief moment as he sucked in a deep breath like the conversation was physically painful. "It just is what it is, Sam. What you are is new so we're just gonna have to ride it out and learn as we go. Just like with the teleporting." He finished tiredly.

Sam nodded with acceptance and turned back to the window. He was quickly filled with more eager questions and whipped Back to Dean. He quietly asked, "I wasn't always this though, was I?" Dean's lip twitched, "Nope." He answered shortly. "Than what was I?" He asked. This, Dean didn't seem to have trouble answering. "Human." There was a type of longing to his voice that confused Sam. "What are you?" He continued the questions without hesitation. A change in Dean was immediate. His body was stiff and his expression guarded. "I'm nothing." He almost whispered. Sam was shocked at how easily he understood. Maybe he was getting better at this. "You want to be human." He stated knowingly. Dean ignored the words and tapped his fingers impatiently. Sam suddenly felt that tug of an instinctual pull and, just like with Cas, stretched his arm forward. He laid his fingers on Dean's forehead and his eyes slipped closed. "Son of a bitch!" Dean screamed out through the haze. Sam heard tires screeching and more curses from Dean. 

There was something dark in him and it was similar to what Sam felt in himself, only stronger. He reached to it and cradled it in his palm before squeezing his fist. The thing scratched and fought, but Sam overpowered and destroyed it. Dean was filled with light and not purity exactly, but a cleanliness of his soul. Like all of that black emptiness had been hacked off. He returned to his body with the realization that he could barely move. He was slumped over in his seat and then Dean was shaking him and yelling something and somewhere in the mix he heard a gasp and Cas's deep voice cutting through every sound. "Dean...you're not a demon anymore." Sam grinned as he lost consciousness.

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Something filled him to the brim, something immense and all powerful that he could never defeat. It wasn't working. His arms flexed and he felt a mental chill with the realization that he hadn't been the one causing it. There was a constant screeching: angelic, his mind told him. Or maybe it was the other consciousness overpowering him that provided him with the information. "Hello, Sam." His own voice greeted with a falsified casualty. The devil had been waiting and his triumph was anything but casual. He burnt and froze and squashed Sam's soul. Sam was being disintegrated by the light. A mirror held his own reflection, but it wasn't him. A cold smirk and prideful eyes watched him with fake pity. The pain was becoming unbearable and he couldn't fight. He wasn't strong enough. He had failed and now the world would end and he couldn't do a damn thing about it and-oh shit-lucifer was walking the Earth and-

Sam woke up screaming. His voice was ragged and panicked, but he couldn't stop. The terror and pain and guilt had been overwhelming and the lingering emotions were just as intense. "Hey, Sammy, you're ok. Just a nightmare." Dean's voice soothed. He wrapped his arms around Sam and the feeling was good, comforting. Sam felt the need to wiggle his fingers just to verify that he was in control of his body, nobody else. "'S he gone?" He whimpered fearfully. Dean slipped off the bed but kept a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Who?" He asked softly. Sam shivered at the thought of speaking the name, but he swallowed the bile creeping up his throat and quietly answered, "lucifer." His voice broke and he had a feeling tears were not far behind. "Yeah. He's been gone a long time." Dean assured him with a squeeze even though his body had tensed.

Sam nodded jerkily and sunk back into the mattress. He blinked confusedly with a drawn brow. "We were driving..." He stated dumbly. Dean chuckled in an almost entertained way that Sam hadn't heard from him before. "About that, if you feel the need to work your mojo, next time wait till your not doing it on the designated driver. As a matter of fact, maybe from now on you should talk to the person about what you plan on doing to them first. Y'know, consent." He explained calmly and seriously. Dean seemed more peaceful than usual, hopeful. "I made you human." Sam remembered out loud with a soft smile. "Yeah, you did. As weird as all of this still is, at least something good came out of it." There was a silent thanks in his voice.

Dean released his shoulder and said, "get some rest, Sam." Sam instantly jolted up. "No! Please. Dean, the memories...please." He begged desperately. So far, these memories had been far from pleasant and he wasn't looking forward to the next bout of pain and misery. Dean shook his head sternly. "You can't keep draining your battery like this, Sam. You gotta rest." He said with crossed arms. Sam swallowed nervously. He knew there was no arguing with Dean on this. "Will you stay?" Sam quietly pleaded. Dean's lips tugged upwards. "Nowhere else I'd rather be." He responded. 

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Jade was startled out of sleep by the shrill ringing of her phone. She grunted irritatedly and caught her breath. Swinging her arm over the nightstand, she sightlessly groped for the annoyingly loud device. Once it was clutched in her fingers, she glanced at the clock and moaned exhaustedly. Who the hell would be calling at midnight? Her eyes dropping closed, she swept her finger over the answer button and pressed the phone to her ear. "H'llo?" She tiredly slurred, still being dragged down by the lull of sleep. "Jade?" A hushed, shaky voice addressed her. Jade's eyes snapped open again at the sound of the obvious fear and desperation. "Yes?" She attempted to keep a steady hold on her calm tone.

"It's Sam. I need your help." The voice rushed and sounded close to tears. It was panicked and she could have swore she heard chains rattling on the other end. She shot up in bed now, officially awake and pumped with adrenaline. "Yeah, Sam, anything." She assured him. Her voice was almost cracking with worry. There was heavy breathing and then Sam stated bluntly, "I've been abducted."

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3 hours earlier:

"Dean?" Sam said uncertainly as he offered him something on a plate. "It's a sandwich, Sam. It's fine, eat it." Dean commanded. Sam's trust in him never wavering, he slowly snatched the sandwich away and took a hesitant bite. He chewed softly, his face pinching in concentration. Dean released a low chuckle and plopped down next to him at the dining table. "What's with the poop face? I make damn good sandwiches." He stated with an accusing finger pointing to Sam. "It's just...I don't know. An odd sensation." Sam explained after swallowing a bite. Dean stood abruptly and headed to the counter, presumably to make his own sandwich. "Yeah, well you'll get used to it. Although you've never appreciated the art that is food like I have." He called from the other room.

Sam snorted and raised the sandwich to take another bite. "I can see that. Your belt's been ready to snap for a while now." He called out with a large grin. "Bitch." He heard mumbled from the kitchen. "Jerk." He replied easily before sinking his teeth into the food. He jumped at a loud crash and raced into the room. There was a shattered plate at Dean's feet and he was staring at Sam with wide eyes. "How'd you know to say that?" Dean demanded in a flat voice. Sam squirmed under his strong gaze and rubbed his hands together nervously. "I-I don't know...I'm sorry." He apologized as he bowed his head. Sam tensed as Dean strode forward, a look of determination on his face, and locked Sam in a tight hug. "You've got nothing to be sorry for." Was the only explanation he offered.

He pulled apart and immediately moved to cleaning the broken plate. Sam, startled and unsure of how to react, headed back to the dining area. He kept his eyes on his hands. Shivers suddenly ran down his spine and he whipped his head up. before he could react, four men with completely black eyes had knocked him over with an abnormal amount of force, pinned him to the floor, and gagged him. He squirmed and attempted to stay calm through the panic. Two men had a hold on his arms, the others had his feet, and they hefted him off the ground. He struggled past the limbs restraining him as they shuffled him off somewhere. Something clicked in his mind and a surge of power bubbled to the surface as if boiling over his skin. Sam clawed desperately at the feeling, pulled it closer until a heaviness against his shoulders appeared out of thin air and extended. A high pitched whistle, almost like the one lucifer had but too deep, grew louder and reverberated throughout the house. 

Sam was blinded by a pure light emanating wisps of black throughout it. He seemed to black out for a moment because when he came back to himself, he was standing and breathing heavy and all of the men with black eyes were sprawled dead on the floor. Sam caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room and flinched. His eyes were completely black except for a piercing whiteish-blue where his iris's should have been. He blinked determinately and the black and blue were swept away by his eyelids. His vision drifted and he finally noted Dean and Cas staring at him with wide eyes through the doorway. The things on his back folded and lightened. Before he hadn't noticed them, but now he felt the continuous slight weight. For longer than Sam thought possible, the three of them just stared at each other. Dean stepped forward, a look of shock still etched into his features, but he was suddenly jerked back by an unseen force. With a pained grunt, he was slammed against the wall with a heavy thud.

Sam turned his body, ready to fight off whatever dared to hurt Dean. Before he could make a move, a cocky looking man dressed in a black suit entered the room with a casual saunter. With a flick of his wrist, a small flame was tossed in Sam's direction. Fire lit up around him following a trail of liquid that he hadn't noticed. And he was standing right in the center. He couldn't help but think of Jess and her nightgown spreading the flames across her delicate form. When the trail of fire connected, forming some kind of symbol, pain flared throughout him. His skin crawled with what felt like knives digging into it, his blood heated and cooled, boiled and froze and the dramatic change in temperature was a shock every time. Sam dropped to his knees, his head exploding with pressure. He couldn't hold back the screams as he was engulfed in agony.

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Dean watched helplessly from the wall he was pinned to as a smug looking Crowley entered the room and tossed a match towards Sam. Dean's eyes quickly shot down and he instantly recognized the familiar form of a Devils trap drawn with oil. Those sons of bitches had dropped Sammy right in the middle. Sam watched with tense confusion as the fire spread. The second the flames touched, Sam dropped to the ground. His back arched upwards and he scrabbled at the floor as he released a gritty scream. A vein stuck out prominently on his neck and Dean froze as a slow trickle of thick blood spilled from his ears, nose, and the corner of his mouth. The firelight danced across the pools of red forming under Sam as he continued to writhe and screech. 

Dean glared at Crowley menacingly and   
Snarled, "what the hell did y-!?" Crowley's eyes slid to his. "Holy fire Devils trap. Interesting effect it has on moose, eh, squirrel?" He contemplated with vague curiosity. He snapped his fingers and two more demons burst through the door, their sprint ending at crowleys sides. "Get him contained." Crowley ordered with a bark. The two demons obediently jogged back out of the room and emerged both carrying the ends of a trunk big enough to fit an average sized person. It's surface was completely littered with symbols, both angelic and demonic. Dean flinched and coiled with rage at the sound of Sam's continuous screams. "You son of a bitch, I'll kill you." Dean muttered under his breath as he trembled through the shockwaves of fear and anger. He watched as the demons set the trunk inches outside of the Devils trap and one splashed a bit of water on an edge, breaking it. They frantically grabbed Sam by the arms and lifted him. Sam's face was slack and his pale skin was coated with streams of bright blood. His head lolled as they hefted his unconscious body into the spacious trunk that was looking more and more like a coffin every second. He dropped with a lifeless thud and they curled his legs so he would fit.

They slammed the top down and bolted several heavy locks onto it. Crowley turned to Dean with a cruel smirk. "Get him out of here, boys." He commanded cooly without letting his eyes leave Dean. The demons easily lifted their ends of the trunk and sauntered out. When Dean's view of them was gone, he struggled furiously against the invisible bonds. Crowley chuckled, low and unworried. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to how I knew about Sam?" Crowley taunted. Dean continued to glare threateningly at the demon. His blood boiled and he knew that as soon as he was free, he would find Sam and stab Crowley in the fucking neck. Crowley tilted his head a bit disappointedly. "No? Well rumors travel fast. Some lower level demon caught a glimpse of him talking to some pretty little thing and sensed the power rolling off him. Couldn't you feel it when you were still one of us, Dean?" He asked knowingly. 

Dean allowed his lips to pull into a twisted sneer. "Than you know that the second he's back on my side, memories or not, he's gonna want to use that power on your demonic ass." He spat, his heartbeat rising every second. Crowley looked him up and down, a twinkle of irritation blinking out of his eye as quickly as it had appeared. He snorted and returned to the cold smirking. "Trust me, darling, you're brother's gonna be put on a leash he'll never get out of. He's gonna be my own little weapon and you can't do a thing about it." He almost purred in Dean's face. "Nighty night, sweetheart." He whispered. Dean turned his head and caught a glimpse of Cas laying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of his blood and his hands lightly clutching at the angel blade in his stomach. He was too still. That feathery fucker had better been unconscious and not dead. Dean felt cold dread shooting through him. Suddenly crowley's hand was on his face and violently pushing Dean's head back against the wall. He heard a crunch and was submerged in darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

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Sam drifted sluggishly back into consciousness. Something was tugging him down, draining his energy, and it made the struggle to remain awake even more difficult. He focused on simply pulling his eyelids apart and sucking in a deep breath. He was distantly aware that he was moving, being jostled around in some sort of container. He lifted his hand like it was a one-hundred pound weight and weakly batted it at the surface above him. "Lock him in these before you let him out." He heard the same deep British voice as before order. "Hey" Sam breathed out in a light slur. "Lemme out." His voice cracked and his eyelids began yet again slipping closed. "Sure, mate." The voice responded with a slightly sarcastic undertone. Sam noted the container being lowered and the dull clank as it touched the floor. There were shuffling footsteps and then a creaking sound as the lid to the box he was in was lifted. He squinted and blinked convulsively as pale light streamed in. The lid was completely off and Sam felt himself waking up. His muscles tensed and flexed as he worked through the disorientation.

"Where am I?" He asked softly, his heart rate suddenly intensifying with the panic slamming straight into him. He tilted his head up to get a look at his surroundings and took in the high ceiling, the obscure moonlight coming in from rows of large windows. He had been in one like this before in a distant memory that barely existed; an abandoned warehouse. Sam flinched and felt his breath get caught in his throat as cool metal touched his wrists. Two men were bent over him in the box, one clamping linked cuffs onto him and the other watching him cautiously. The handcuffs were thick, grey, and metal. They were attached to a large chain that raddled in his ears as the man yanked on them to assure himself that they were tight enough. Sam felt chills go up his arms as the cold pierced his skin and he broke out of his curious daze. He knew enough to be sure that he was in trouble. The man that had been watching him suddenly retrieved something from the ground and the chain raddled some more. Sam's eyes trailed the linking pieces until they reached what was attached; a thick metal collar with rows of small etched-in symbols. Some were as simple as an intercrossing line or two, some were meticulous and precise like a piece of art.

The man began leaning down, collar in hand, and unhinged it. Sam barely noticed the similar symbols on the handcuffs binding his wrists as he flinched away. "Stop. Don't, please" he begged desperately. He didn't know what this was and he didn't know where he was or even where Dean was. As his levels of fear and helplessness increased, he felt the power from before surging within him. There was a high pitched cracking noise as a few of the large windows shattered, glass exploding everywhere. The man didn't even waste a look back at the breaking windows as he lurched forward and snapped the collar around Sam's neck with a definite click to seal his fate. His chest rose and fell too fast as the symbols on the handcuffs lit up with orangish-red light, growing brighter until they seemed to blind Sam. "Wha-what is this?" He demanded anxiously as he strained his eyes to see past the lights. "You don't need to worry about that now. All you need to do is listen." The British voice stated without emotion. Then again, demons didn't seem to have many of those. The bitter thought caught him by surprise. He somehow knew that these men were demons and the British one currently reciting something in Latin was named Crowley. As the foreign yet familiar words flowed into his mind, each carrying an impact as if they were chaining him down, something else came too. Images, sounds, tastes, memories. He remembered hunting, decapitating a vampire, stabbing a demon, jumping into a hole in the ground that meant his eternal suffering. The memories were cut short by the ending of the Latin words. The light began to dim and Sam noticed that he had stopped struggling and was lying still on his back. 

"Get out of the trunk, Sam." Crowley commanded. The voice sounded calm but strict yet there was something lurking under them, like a monster swiftly moving through rolling fog, something that seeped into him and altered his thoughts. His body seemed to move on its own as he Quickly pulled his feet over the side and stood tall. "You're controlling me" he realized aloud with a shocked intake of breath. "Well done, moose. Maybe you're not as slow as I thought." Crowley congratulated with a smirk and a sense of victory emanating from him. Sam swallowed nervously. "I wanna go back to Dean." He stated shortly. The emotions tampering with his voice made the demand sound more like an unsure question. Crowley's brow drew together and he eyed Sam strangely. "I don't get it." He said confusedly. Sam cocked his head to the side, the fear having not completely overpowered his curiosity. "Get what?" He wondered with a slightly shaking voice. Crowley clasped his hands behind his back and began sauntering in a slow, observant circle around Sam. "Where's all the raging profanity? The 'I'll stab you when I get out of this, Crowley's'? Penny for your thoughts." He offered sarcastically. Sam thought over the words for a moment trying to remember what profanity was. After a moment, he decided silence would be the best option until he escaped. He clamped his mouth shut stubbornly and stared unblinkingly at his feet. 

"Oh, come on, the silent treatment is just boring." Crowley whined. He sighed at Sam's lack of response and ordered with an eye roll, "Sam, tell me why you aren't acting like yourself." Sam immediately felt the tug of control seeping from the collar and handcuffs. He blurted out, "I lost my memories. I have a few back now, but not many." He felt the urge to cover his mouth, but kept his bound hands held steadily in front of him. "And so the plot thickens." Crowley chuckled to himself. "Oh, right, I remember Dean saying something about your precious memories." He mumbled to himself. For what felt like an eternity, Crowley continued circling Sam, watching him as If he were a prize he had just one. Sam nervously rubbed his wrists against the hard cuffs as his trepidation intensified. "Why are you holding me here?" He asked, nearly pleaded for the information. Crowley stepped away from him and watched him with a satisfied grin. He drank up Sam's fear with pleasure. "It's simple. You're a weapon. Even better than hell hounds if what I'm sensing from you is true." He answered cooly. Sam recoiled at the idea of being used as a weapon. His throat closed up and he couldn't find the motivation to do anything but stare at his feet in despair. "Cheer up, Sammy. It's time for your first job." Crowley informed him cheerily. Sam's head whipped up, his eyes wide, and he caught a mere glimpse of Crowley as he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and the abandoned warehouse spun wildly as everything went dark. 

His vision seemed to swirl back into existence and he stumbled on his feet. Crowley's hand peeled away from him and Sam caught his balance on rubbery legs. "You'll get used to it." Crowley said with a shrug. Sam breathed irregularly through his nose as he scanned his surroundings. He was in the middle of a lush field with no signs of civilization nearby. The grass was cut short and several feet in front of him, drawn in thick red paint that stubbornly stuck the green blades down, was the same symbol he had been put in at the bunker. Except this one was much bigger and held at least 50 people with black eyes and fearful expressions. There were men, women, and children of all types frantically scooting around in an attempt to find a break in their prison. "Devil's trap" Sam mumbled under his breath. "Gold star, moose." Crowley sarcastically congratulated him. Sam ignored the shivers down his spine at Crowley's demonic voice. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die! Just let me go! Let me go!" Sam flinched and swiveled his head to the sides at the sound of a terrified middle aged woman's voice. As he focused on it, more voices surfaced. "Please, I want mamma, please let me go back to her!" This one was a child, desperate and frantic. Sam turned in a circle, his eyes quickly running over the area. When they finally landed on the group of demons, Sam understood. "GET OUT! GET OUT OF ME I WANT MY FUCKING BODY BACK!" A man's gritty voice demanded with a swell of rage and fear. The demon's mouths weren't moving. "No..." Sam whimpered, his eyes pooling with fresh tears. "No no nonono." He whispered with a closing up throat as he gripped his hair in his fingers. His mind was overstuffed with too many horrified, frightened, angry voices and he couldn't help them. "I hear them." He choked out gravely. "I hear the human's that the demon's are possessing." He explained to himself because his head was gonna explode with all of the thoughts that weren't his and it was getting harder to tell what he was thinking.

For just a split second, Sam heard a deep British voice that wasn't dripping with arrogance for once, but he couldn't keep a hold on it. The world was tilting in an odd way and it was all too much and Sam was pretty sure he was gonna puke. "You are all here because you are lucifer loyalists. Now, I know you aren't all of them, but an example has to be made of you." Crowley's voice cut clean through the commotion in Sam's head. He knew what Crowley was gonna tell him to do. But he couldn't, he couldn't, and there were at least ten different sets of sobbing voices blasting in his ears. "Don't! I mean-I-I can kill just the demons, I don't need to kill the bodies, the people, you just have to give me a minute-I'll figure it out. Please." He begged as he pushed the palms of his hands against his throbbing ears. He felt blood dripping from his nose, over his lips, down his chin. "No can do. Sam, kill 'em all. And make it bloody hurt." Crowley's order sliced through every ounce of his free will and overtook his muscles, his thoughts. "No-don't!" Sam desperately pleaded, but he was already standing tall, the things on his back unfolding, stretching out. The voices increased there sound with the screams and prayers and a few in awe at the angel before them. Except Sam wasn't an angel, not all the way, and he felt tears falling down his cold cheeks as hot power flooded his veins and reached out like skeletal fingers, touching each of the bodies before him. 

The too deep angelic whine rang in his ears along with the screams of agony. When the job was done, the weight on Sam's back eased and his energy drained, he collapsed to the ground. He got one look at the charred remains in the devil's trap before Crowley leaned down and set a hand on his shoulder. Sam blacked out before they teleported.

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	11. Chapter 11

Sam woke up alone. He found it difficult to move much, but he strained his unresponsive muscles to shift his head to the side and get a look at where he was. Even with the unfocused vision and the haze of exhaustion, it wasn't difficult to figure out that he was back in the abandoned warehouse. It took him a bit longer to notice the devil's trap drawn in holy oil that he was currently laying in the center of. He knew what it was; a warning. If he tried to leave, Crowley would simply tell him to get inside the devil's trap and he would light it up. Sam shuddered at the memory of agony plaguing his blood and skin and muscle. Even his bones had felt like they were being continuously broken. Sam racked his brain for an answer, a way out of this. His thoughts travelled back to Jade's phone. He had a memory of calling Dean on his phone once. He controlled his breathing and focused on not getting his hopes up too high. With tremendous effort, he lifted his weighed hand and slipped it into his jacket pocket. His fingertips grazed a cool surface and he felt a flutter of hope. He sucked in as deep a breath as he could and wrapped his trembling fingers around it. He squeezed it tight in his palm and gingerly pulled it out. 

Sam attempted to sit up at first, but he soon realized that he was too weak. He let the hard concrete cradle the back of his head as he scrolled through the phone's contacts. His breathing sped up when he saw Dean's name. With a glance around the large area to reassure himself that he was alone, he selected the name and brought the device to his ear. It rang multiple times and then Dean's voicemail greeted him. "No...come on..." Sam urged under his breath as he called again. Ringing and then nothing. He tried again. No answer. And again. Nope. Sam sagged with disappointment as he wallowed with barren eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. 

He almost choked on the realization, the memory. He frantically reopened the phone and stared at Dean's number. He read it again and again until the numbers were carved into his mind and he reached into his pocket, retrieving a ripped slip of paper. He carefully typed the numbers into the phone and silently begged for Jade to pick up. After several rings, his hope had begun to fade. However, it was rekindled brighter than ever when a tired, slightly irritated voice spoke. "H'llo?" She greeted half heartedly. "Jade?" Sam addressed quietly. With hearing his own voice came a fear that pumped his heart into his throat and he was sure he would choke on it. He had to hurry, he couldn't let Crowley figure out what he was up to. The grief and guilt of the dead humans also welled up along with a few hot tears on his heated cheeks. "Yes?" Jade responded, much more alert and worried now. He hadn't meant to worry her, but he couldn't think about that now. He had to focus. His throat strained against the misery ridden sobs crawling up it as he minutely said, "it's Sam. I need your help." It was formed as a request, but it sounded like desperate pleading. He took a minute to steady himself through the almost-hyperventilating and blurted out, "I've been abducted."

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Sam had the sudden blinding fear that Jade had hung up. "Jade? Hello?!" His voice rose. "Sam, I'm here, but you need to hang up and call 911, okay? They'll find you and get you home, alright?" Her voice was speeding up and cracking and he knew that she was almost as afraid as he was. He wet his lips and spoke as calmly as he could. "What-who's 911? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Dean isn't answering his phone and I don't know how long I have before the man who took me gets back. If you really wanna help me, write down this number." There was the sound of movement on the other line and Jade stopped at one point. She made a small noise like she was about to argue or try to convince him of something, but she continued on. "Okay, what is it?" She asked. Sam repeated the memorized number and she read it back to him after writing it down. Sam nodded at the progress and spoke quicker. "Okay, call Dean until he picks up. Tell him I'm in some sort of abandoned warehouse and that he has to get me out without actually being here. Please, Jade, this is life or death." His chest hitched after the last word, the anxiety over knowing the things Crowley would make him do eating him alive.

Jade seemed to choke up for a minute but she pulled herself together. "I'm calling the cops, Sam. I'll try Dean for as long as I can and then I'm calling them, okay?" Sam nervously rubbed his wrists against the handcuffs and stretched his stiff neck in the collar. "Okay. I have to go." He responded slowly, reluctant to lose the contact grounding him. "I'll call back if I get a hold of Dean." She said with more confidence than when the call started. There was a click and she was gone. Sam kept the phone clutched in his hand and fought back the panic. Dean would figure something out.

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Jade was shaken to the core. Her whole body trembled as she clutched the paper with scratched down numbers on it and fought back the wave of nausea. Sure, she had only known Sam for a little while, but he had sounded so...terrified. Plus Sam was a sweet guy and she didn't know how she would cope if he got hurt. She typed the numbers into her phone with shaking fingers and held it to her ear. No answer. She tried again and again and again and before she knew it, a half hour had passed and her phone was almost dead. She made a mental note that she would try one more time and if he didn't answer, she would call 911. It seemed ridiculous that she hadn't done that in the first place, but she wasn't exactly in her right mind at the moment. She almost didn't know what to do when the phone stopped ringing and a slurred, frightened voice answered, "Sam?!" She froze, unsure of herself. "I-no-it's Jade." She responded shakily. "Sam gave me your number though, he's in trouble." She added quickly at the silence. Dean grunted in pain on the other line and sighed in disappointment. "I know. I got knocked out by the son of a bitch that took him." Dean replied, an animalistic ferocity in his tone. 

"S-Sam said that he was in an abandoned warehouse and that you have to figure out how to get him out without being there. Dean, please tell me you're gonna call the police." She begged, her voice tired and breaking with anxiety. Dean paused before uttering a simple "no." Jade felt the sudden urge to hit something and clenched her free fist. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Fine, you want your brother to die? Well I don't. I'll call 911 and tell THEM what I know." She fumed as her finger sought out the end call button. "Wait!" She was stopped by Dean's desperate, slightly angry voice. "What?" She growled, irritation squirming hot through her blood. "Jade, listen to me. This is something you don't understand and if you call the cops, they're only gonna get killed." He explained slowly as if talking to a child. This only fed the fire burning at her core. 

She forced her voice to seem calm and collected even with the storm of emotions escaping through her shaking form. "You don't understand. The cops are here to help us. That's what they do. They'll find Sam and save him, okay?" She used the same patronizing tone as Dean and she could hear him growling with frustration. Or maybe it was in pain again. "Dammit, Jade, you can't call the fucking cops!" Dean nearly yelled into the phone. She flinched at the grittiness of his voice, the almost hysteria that was probably from Sam being gone. She felt an odd combination of fear and sympathy. "Come pick me up and let me help you find Sam. That's the only way I won't call them." The words spilled from her mouth before she had really thought them through. Dean seemed to think for a moment and finally sighed. "What's your address?" He asked flatly. Jade just stood there frozen, attempting to understand what she was getting herself into. "Jade" Dean said impatiently. Without hesitation this time, she stated her address and without any other words, Dean hung up the phone. 

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It felt like seconds before Dean arrived. She stood outside of her small house, her hands covering her frail arms, when an old muscle car crawled to a stop several feet away from her with a rumbling growl. Dean kept his eyes on the steering wheel that his fingers were curled tightly around and Jade took that as her cue to get in. She rounded the front and wrapped her hand around the handle. She swung the passenger door open and it creaked in protest. "Get in the back." Dean commanded without moving his locked eyes or twitching. Jade swallowed nervously and threw the door closed. She then opened the back door and slid uncomfortably into the seat. Dean kept his expression neutral as he shifted his gaze to the windshield. A moment of confusion as they stayed still had Jade asking, "why aren't we leaving?" Dean's body tensed as if he had forgotten she was there and he shifted in his seat. "We're waiting for someone." He answered quietly.

Jade nodded and let it go as she stared at her house through the window. Her thoughts wondered back to her conversation with him on the phone and she found herself growing bitter about the situation. Why couldn't Dean just call the damn cops and let them do their job? They were Sam's best chance and here they were 'waiting for someone' while Sam was probably going through hell. She fisted her hands and breathed steadily in the hopes to calm herself, but she was boiling with worry and anger. "You wanna explain to me why you can't get the authorities involved with finding Sam? He could be running out of time and you absolutely can't make a fucking phone call to save your brother's life?" Jade nearly yelled. She turned her accusing eyes on Dean and he glared at her through the rear view mirror. He groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "I really wanted to avoid this." He stated bitterly. Jade was seeing red at this point. This whole act of knowing something Jade didn't and being so vague was really starting to piss her off. She crossed her arms and demanded, "avoid what?" She spat the words out like venom. Dean just seemed tired. There were dark bags under his eyes and he didn't seem to have it in him to be pissed off. "The talk." He explained shortly. Jade snorted incredulously and shook her head. "Lay it on me." She said sarcastically. She was tired of this bullshit and she was even more tired of all of the curse words streaming continuously in her mind lately.

Dean relaxed in his seat and watched her through the mirror as he spoke. "I'm gonna make this quick because my brother's missing and I really hate the talk." He stated and averted his gaze to the window. Jade clenched her jaw and waited. Dean sucked in a deep breath and began. "Angels, demons, monsters, and ghosts are real. Sam and I hunt them, we have since we were kids. Sam wasn't abducted by just any wackjob, he was taken by a demon, the king of hell actually, and the cops obviously don't know shit about any of this. They go in, they're dead. There'll be demons crawling all over the place and if they aren't, they will be when they realize someone came to pay Sammy a visit." He glanced up at her through the mirror and she imagined her face was completely blank. The anger was gone, flushed out by realization and discomfort. Dean was insane. He was crazy and delusional and needed help. She blinked at him through the mirror and felt all traces of rage deep out of her. "Dean..." She began with a small shake of her head. "You're confused. I'm so sorry and I hope you get the help you need, but right now Sam needs someone lucid. I'm gonna go call the police now. They'll help your brother, I swear." She finished as she scooted closer to the door. She turned her head and clamped her hand on the handle when she heard it; wings. 

She quickly whipped her head to the side and gaped at the man suddenly lounging in the passenger seat. Her eyes went wide with the realization that she would have heard the door creak if the man used it. She barely registered the fact that it was the he was with Dean when they first met. "This is Cas, he's an angel." Dean informed with a smirk. Cas turned back and gave her a kind smile although it seemed distant. "No...not possible." Jade muttered to herself. Dean groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Cas, could you prove it to her?" He asked as he dropped his hands into his lap. Cas cocked his head to the side and his brow drew together. "How?" He wondered. Dean threw his hands in the air and dramatically shook his head. "show her your damn halo, I don't know. Just do something with your mojo." He answered irritatedly. Cas, apparently unaffected by the sarcastic tone, turned back to Jade and asked, "do you have any injuries?" Jade blinked at him and opened her mouth. "I-I don't-think so?" She stuttered. "Not even a scar?" Cas asked. She thought this over and turned her arm. She had a thin scar on her lower arm that was pale and protruding. Cas nodded to himself and took her wrist in his hand. He reached his other hand over and covered the damaged skin with his palm. His eyes seemed to go out of focus and Jade felt a tingling on her arm. There was a shock of what felt like electricity and Jade jerked her arm out of his grip. She kept her eyes glued to Cas's serious face, afraid of what she would see if she looked down. Cas cocked his head curiously to the side and glanced down. 

With a deep breath, Jade slowly forced her eyes to travel down and land on the scar that had poked out of her skin for years. She was suddenly lightheaded and dizzy at the sight of a smooth, bare arm with no scar tissue. "Holy shit..." She mumbled through her hand that had moved itself in front of her mouth. "Yeah. Believe me now?" Dean uttered with clipped words. Jade felt herself nod as she continued staring in hypnotized wonder at her arm. "Good." Dean said with an odd combination of relief and sarcasm. 

\------------------

"Cas, please tell me you found something on Sam." Dean half pleaded. They had already dragged out proving the existence of the supernatural to Jade way too long and who knew what that demonic bastard was doing to his brother? Cas's lips twitched into a small smile and his eyes blazed as they bored into Dean's. "I found him." He stated calmly. Dean took in the information and sunk into his seat with relief. After taking a moment to pull himself back into business, he remembered Cas's pale complexion and the blood draining from his abdomen. "Hey, how're you holding up?" Dean asked worriedly. Cas gave him a small nod and assured him, "the angel blade didn't go deep enough to kill me. I should be healed soon." He turned his head and casually stared out of the windshield. "You aren't what I thought an angel would look like." Jade suddenly piped up from the back. Her expression was still shocked and slightly dazed. Dean snorted and turned the keys in the ignition. The impala came to life with a thunderous growl and Dean drank in the familiarity of the noise. After all that had changed, he was glad the impala was a piece of the past that he could cling to.  
"Join the club." Dean told her. He drummed his fingers against the wheel and lightly asked, "where to, Cas?" 

Cas directed them on a relatively short drive to where Sam was being held. It was an abandoned warehouse that looked like it was an hour away from caving in. When Dean shut off the engine, he almost immediately twisted his back and stared intently at Jade. She jumped at the quick gesture and Dean knew that she wasn't handling things well. He swallowed and considered his words carefully. "So umm, we're gonna go get Sam...do me a favor and stay in the car, alright?" He said. Jade nodded jerkily and her eyes darted to the warehouse and back. Okay, so the thing about demons abducting Sam probably hadn't gone over her head. Dean gave her a reassuring nod and exited the car. Cas did the same and spoke to him over the top of the impala. "So what's the plan?" He asked, his expression business-like. "Get Sam out." Dean answered obviously. Cas nodded to himself and muttered, "of course." Dean tucked a handgun into his waistband and held the demon killing knife tight in his palm. He let out a long breath and stated, "let's get this done." The two sauntered with stiff muscles towards the front entrance. 

Dean wasn't sure how much more he could take. First he was dead, then he was a demon, then Sam was dead and he was still a demon, then Sam was back as some unpredictable amnesiac hybrid creature, then he was kidnapped by Crowley. This was all just too much and all he wanted at this point was to grab Sam and run, live in some apple pie type of neighborhood and get Sammy a dog or something. He thought about the possibilities of this as he entered the warehouse with his knife pointed outward. When he spotted Sam laying on his back, he raced forward and knelt down to him, scooping his upper body in his arms. His face was pale and his eyes fluttered open to slits. Dean silently fumed when he saw the handcuffs chained to a metal collar, both scattered with symbols. Dean was definitely gonna kill that son of a bitch, Crowley. "Can't be here..." Sam muttered as he attempted to wiggle out of Dean's grip. Dean held tight and said, "I know, man, you're not supposed to be here. I'm getting you out." He hefted Sam's body up and grunted as he got him to his feet. Sam immediately leaned on him, his strength waning. "Cas!" Dean yelled out because he couldn't hold him up for long. Cas rushed over and gripped Sam's other arm. He took over most of the weight and Dean was more grateful than he could say. "No." Sam suddenly protested. "YOU can't be here." He stated, determined to get a sentence out. Dean almost stumbled away when Sam screamed, "GET OUT!" With more volume and power than Dean would have thought possible in that moment. 

"Sam, stop! C'mon, Sammy, walk, we've gotta get you out!" Dean yelled in his ear. Sam stubbornly dug his heels into the concrete floor and determinately attempted to wrench himself from their grip. "Sam, let us help you." Cas said calmly to him as they crept towards te door together. "I don't think he wants to go, squirrel." Came an entertained British voice. Crowley was leaning against the wall across from them with crossed arms and a smirk that Dean longed to wipe off his face. "Get him to the car." Dean told Cas through clenched teeth. He released his hold on Sam and pointed the knife at Crowley's chest like a dart and target. Crowley's eyes flicked to Cas, who was dragging Sam away with ease. "Wouldn't do that if I were you, mate." He warned with a creeping grin. Dean flared his nostrils and growled, "I'm taking my brother. What're you gonna do about it, douche bag? Kill me? Go ahead and try." Crowley tilted his head to the side and lifted his eyebrows. "I don't have to try anything." He said innocently, weighing emphasis on I. He switched his gaze to The entrance as Jade suddenly sprinted in, a gun in hand and a look of intense fear. "I-I heard Sam yell." She explained weakly. Dean glared at her and moved his eyes to Crowley. Jades's gaze followed as her forehead creased in confusion. The second she saw him, the blood drained from her face, her mouth gaping. She raised the gun and flinched violently as she shot at Crowley's chest. 

The bullets cut through the demon's suit, but he showed no sign of pain. "Rude! Do you know how much this suit costs?" He angrily yelled as he flicked his wrist and Jade flew into the wall. She yelped and gasped at the impact, her eyes fighting to close. "Sam." Crowley spat out. "Kill them." He ordered maliciously. Sam jerked away from Cas and his chest puffed out. A light emanated from him, dim at first then growing in intensity. At the end of the blinding light were black wisps of smoke that appeared out of place in its purity. Sam's eyes clicked to black with brilliant light blue in the center and his ragged breathing inflated and deflated his chest like a balloon. "Nononono!" He yelped as the mesmerizing shadows of wings stretched out behind him. They were bonier and sharper than average angel wings, all pointed angles and too short of feathers. "Stop!" He screamed as he slammed his palms against the side of his head. There was a sudden burning in Dean's eyes, then a tingling, then he was screaming through the firey pain flaring in his skull. He was on the ground before he knew it, watching the scene trough blurred eyes. Sam abruptly sprung forward, dark wings trailing behind him as he clamped onto Crowley's coat and ripped something from inside it. Over Dean's own screaming, he somehow strained his ears to hear Jade's own screams and Cas's desperate pleas to Crowley demanding him to stop. He didn't sound in pain, just trepidatious. 

Just as Dean's vision began going out, Sam's arms jerked towards himself and there was a crunching sound. He crumbled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings and the wings were gone, the destructive light flaring once then fading all together. The pain immediately began to dwindle, the burning coals that had been his eyes returning to normal. His vision grew sharper as he blinked the tears away and he found himself crawling towards Sam. "Sammy" the name came out almost as a grunt as he gritted his teeth. When he reached Sam, he felt lightheaded and knew he was about to empty his stomach, a feeling all too familiar. There was an angel blade sticking out of his brother's chest. Sam was gonna fucking die again and Dean was sick of mourning. There was blood trailing down him in thick streams and the floor was splattered with the stuff. Dean suddenly remembered the crunching noise and he twisted around as bile burned up his throat. He retched on his hands and knees, his stomach heaving and for a moment he just sat there trembling. He jumped out of his skin when a clammy hand wrapped around his wrist and held it in its weak grip. Dean turned to see Sam laying on his side, the angel blade touching the floor as it poked out of his shirt. His bound hands were stretched forward, one touching Dean and the other limply hanging from the cuff. His glassy eyes watched Dean comfortingly and his lips pulled into a small smirk. "Not a fu-full angel." He croaked through obvious pain as he wore his best shit eating grin.

Dean couldn't help the relieved smile spreading across his face as Sam wrapped his long fingers around the hilt of the blade, sucked in a shaky breath, and pulled it out. His face twisted in agony as the weapon was ripped out of his fresh wound. It clanked as it dropped to the hard floor and Sam gasped in breaths. Dean turned his head to meet empty air where Crowley had earlier commanded Sam to kill them. Fucking coward. Dean whipped his head when Jade cried out, a sob filled with gasps as she stumbled over to them. She tripped and fell to her knees, her eyes on the gory hole in Sam's chest. She didn't bother to wipe her eyes as tears rolled down her red cheeks and her mouth gaped at the blood stained plaid shirt. Sam hesitantly reached his hand up and rested it on Jade's shoulder. She turned her eyes down on his face and they widened, brown irises ringed with white as she paled. "You're alive? How the hell?" She asked quietly, her voice fading with shock. Sam rubbed his thumb over her shirt and focused his cloudy eyes on Dean. Jade looked at him as well, obviously waiting for an explanation. Dean bit his lip, unsure of wether he should even attempt to help her understand what he barely understood. 

He simply shook his head and Jade sagged with disappointment at his lack of sharing. "Later." He promised simply, but it was enough to have her nodding enthusiastically with burning curiosity. "Dean" Sam suddenly whimpered, his cuffed hands groping for Dean's shirt. The chain rattled as he did so. "Yeah, kiddo?" Dean said as he returned his focus to Sam. Sam spoke fast and urgently. "I'll try to kill you guys when I'm healed and my power returns. You have to-" Dean interrupted determinately with, "I fucking swear, Sam, if you say I have to kill you, I'm gonna punch you in the damn face." Sam shook his head and his forehead creased. "No, I don't even know how to kill me. I was gonna say that you have to take control of me so that Crowley's order doesn't have a hold on me. I remember how the spell goes, you just have to repeat it." He stated with falsified calm. Dean hated the idea of being in absolute control of his little brother but he swallowed and nodded. Sam was right. As Sam brokenly whispered the Latin, Dean repeated. With every word, Sam jerked and his eyes swiveled around the room like they were following something. His facial expressions shifted dramatically and his lips were moving rapidly with unspoken words, but he somehow managed to recite the whole thing. When Dean finished, Sam's eyes clenched closed and he breathed heavy, his hands clenching and unclenching. "Sam, you okay?" Dean asked worriedly. Sam, too lost in his own head, ignored the words. All of a sudden he was screaming and every intact window in the abandoned warehouse exploded in and the air seemed to crack with electricity. Dean could have sworn he felt a force nudge him back, but he didn't have time to analyze it before the screaming was done and Sam's head lolled. He was covered in a sheet of sweat and his breathing was uneven.

"Sam?" Dean addressed as he attempted to rouse Sam by patting his cheek. Sam's eyes slipped open and his dilated pupils slowly trailed across the room. His face pinched in confusion and he quietly slurred, "this'sn't the church." Dean's eyebrows shot up. "No, it's not. Now are you with me, sleeping beauty? We've gotta get you outta here and set up a better anti-demon security system back at the bunker in case Crowley decides to make a reappearance." Dean stated slowly so that Sam could keep up in his disoriented state. Sam thought for a moment and mumbled, "yeah, 'm up." Dean grabbed a hold of his arm and Nodded at Cas for help. Cas clutched Sam's other arm and they yanked him steadily to his feet. Sam groaned and he tilted his head down to his chest. "What th'hell?" He muttered as he stumbled over his feet. dean and Cas continued wordlessly dragging him as Jade trailed behind, still in shock probably. When they reached the car, they sat him in the backseat and Jade slid in beside him. "Keep an eye on him." Dean ordered and Jade nodded obediently with pursed lips. Dean rounded the impala and fell more than sat in the front seat. Cas sat in the passenger and in a blur of silence and absorbing the most recent events, they were on the road in no time. Dean found himself watching Sam through the rear view mirror just as much, if not more, as the road. Sam turned to Jade after a few minutes and seemed to get somehow even more confused. He flashed her an awkward smile and looked at Dean through the mirror. "Uhh, Dean, who's this?" He asked with slightly more lucidity than before. 

Dean's brow creased with a lack of understanding. "You don't remember Jade?" He asked. He didn't know how well he would do with even more amnesia. It was like a bad soap opera. Sam's brow scrunched together and he looked back at Jade. He shook his head and Jade swallowed hard. Sam tapped his finger on his knee and wore a look of concentration. "I dunno. Everything's a little fuzzy. Mind filling me in?" He requested patiently. Just as Dean was about to start, Sam mumbled, "did Cas heal me while I was out of it?" Peering down at his chest in astonishment. Dean ran his fingers through his hair. This drive was about to feel a whole hell of a lot longer. "No, Sam, you healed yourself, remember?" He stated. Sam's head snapped up. "How would I heal myself that fast? I should be dead, Dean." He said accusingly, his tone rising with agitation. What the hell was going on? When did Sam start sounding like his whiny, angsty bitch of a brother again? This Sam didn't even remember a time when it was abnormal to have powers, so why was he tripping out? Dean let out a fake chuckle. "Maybe you shouldn't have stabbed yourself than." He casually joked. "I...what?" Sam said dumbfounded from the back. Dean shrugged. "Yeah. You, deadly angel mojo, playing Romeo with Crowley's angel blade, Ringing any bells?" He said, his tone light even though his mind was a whirlwind. Sam's eyes stuck to his lap as he shook his head and grumbled, "I don't understand." Dean wet his lips and replied, "don't understand what, Sammy?" 

\-------------------

Sam threw his head up and yelled, "everything! One minute I was in a church and-and you were...you were something and I was trying to...do something..." He clenched his jaw and huffed out shallow breaths with frustration and confusion. Sam had no idea what the hell had happened and he was probably sounding insane, but he was in a church with Dean and Cas and then he just woke up to a whole lot of crazy. He swallowed down the slight panic and continued. "I don't remember why we were there, but we were and then I woke up to a hole in my chest and this weird feeling like I'm...different somehow...and there's some random girl and now you're telling me I fucking stabbed myself!?" He yelled angrily, his facade of calm melting away. "Oh, and not to mention these." He added as he held his hands up and rattled the chain connecting the handcuffs to the collar on his neck. Sam was sure he had never been so confused in his life. Suddenly the car jerked to a stop and Sam almost slammed into the seat in front of him. Dean swung open the door handle and sauntered to Sam's own door. It groaned as he pulled it open and Dean flung himself at Sam, his arms trapping him in a steel grip. Sam realized then that Dean's casualty had been just as much of a lie as his own calmness and he felt his eyes prickle with tears. If Dean was allowing his emotions to show like this, something was seriously wrong and that scared the hell out of him. Sam pulled apart and was shocked to see Dean's eyes glistening with unshed tears. He gave Sam a lopsided grin and said, "You're back. Shit, Sam, I never thought I could miss you so much." He stated, wiping his eyes without letting his steel grip leave Sam's shoulder. 

"Did...did I die again?" Sam asked. Dean stared hard at him before nodding once and stating, "yeah. And then you came back. You only could've been dead, what? An hour or two?" He chuckled dryly and without humor. Sam waited for an explanation, but he grew agitated when he didn't receive one. "Okay, you gonna tell me how I kicked the bucket or do I have to guess?" He spat out. This whole situation was just wrong and made no sense and it was starting to get to him. Dean suddenly darkened, his eyes dropping and every line in his face deepened. "Can we get back to the bunker before we keep going with twenty questions?" Dean requested. Sam's almost-panic urged him to argue, to demand the truth right at that moment, but the grim look on Dean's face was enough to shut him up. He nodded acceptingly and Dean backed away, slamming Sam's door shut.

\-----------------

When they arrived at the bunker, Sam immediately planted himself into a stiff wooden chair and burned holes into Dean with his insistent gaze. His brother reluctantly sat across from him and gestured for the lost looking girl to do the same. Jade's eyes curiously scanned the whole room in awe as she fumbled with the chair beside Dean. "What IS this place?" She asked a bit dreamily. Dean sighed irritatedly. "We'll get to that later. First, let me just get you two caught up, alright?" He said as he rubbed a hand over his weary face. Jade and Sam watched him expectantly. As Dean explained the events since he had become a demon, Sam felt himself being choked with horror and guilt. He was something far from human and even farther from harmless. He didn't even dare to look over at Jade and assess her expression. He had a feeling there would be fear of him embedded deep into her thin face and he thought he would break if he saw it. "I can't-I-I don't-I...I can't BE this. I can't, Dean, I-what the hell am I?" Sam stuttered, his words faltering as his heart sped up and slammed itself into his chest. He could feel himself shaking and his eyes going wide, but he couldn't stop. He was a monster, a freak, an abomination, and he didn't belong. He nervously ran his trembling fingers through his hair even though the action was awkward with the handcuffs. "It's okay, Sam. We're gonna fix this just like we always do. Right now I'm just glad you've got your memories back." Dean's voice attempted to sooth him.

Sam shook his head frantically. He couldn't be a monster, not again. And now he was half demon or something? Dean acted calm, but there was no way he was okay with this. Sam rubbed his wrists against the cold metal and strained his neck against the tight collar. It was all too much and it felt like the room would close in on him if he dropped his guard. He could no longer talk with the rushed breathing ripping from his lungs. All of a sudden, Jade was scooting away, he still refused to look at her face, and Dean was right by his side. Cas was there too, watching Sam with concern as meaningless sounds spilled from Dean's mouth. "Sam, just calm down!" Dean's words were injected with that extra kick of something that dripped over his muscles and mind, snatching the control away from Sam. His thoughts were manipulated, nudged in the desired direction and all worries were pushed from him. None of it mattered, none of it was important. The storm of fear and self loathing and despair was wiped away, leaving an almost drug-induced-feeling of calm. His muscles relaxed and he felt his breathing even out as he swayed slightly. His heavy eyes drifted to Dean and Cas, who were watching him with confusion. "Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked slowly as if testing the waters. Sam blinked at him and nonchalantly answered, "yeah, I'm fine." He didn't see why he wouldn't be. Dean's forehead creased and Cas turned to Dean with a solemn expression. "Dean, you're in control of him now, remember? You told him to calm down, so that's exactly what he did." Cas explained. Dean's face twisted with some unidentifiable emotion and he dropped his eyes. Something else that was fiery and hot seemed to pass through him as he grunted, "son of a bitch. This is so fucked up." The outlet for his anger didn't help much, but the tension passed and Dean was watching Sam again.

"Sam, I'm sorry, man. I didn't even think about it. I'd never try to control you. You know that, right?" Dean asked, his eyes pleading for something from Sam, some specific reaction. "Of course I know that. It's fine." He replied simply and without a single care for the mistake. Dean clenched his jaw and blinked hard. "Dammit, Sam, you're supposed to be pissed." He spat out, the guilt still weighing heavily on him. Sam's brow drew together with a lack of understanding, but no frustration. "I don't think I can." He realized aloud. Dean swallowed hard as he cleared his throat. "Would it...be okay with you if I uhh tried fixing it?" He asked awkwardly and with obvious discomfort. "I wouldn't mind." Sam answered lightly. Although, he was pretty sure he wouldn't mind anything at the moment. "Uhh, Sam, you don't have to be calm. Just...feel whatever you want to. Or need to. Whatever." He sputtered out quickly. Sam felt the change immediately. The relaxed edge to him faded and the solid dam blocking out his anxiety and pain blinked out of existence like it had never been there. His muscles tensed and the discomfort of the collar and handcuffs became apparent again. It felt like submerging from the ocean and receiving sweet breath for the first time in too long. He imagined   
The thin air replacing the hazy fog keeping him locked in a forced state of mind was freedom. He even gasped deeply as clarity slammed into him and left him vulnerable to the spiked, thorny Forrest that was his mind. "What the hell? You can tell me what to feel?" He croaked. He wasn't angry, just surprised. 

Dean didn't seem to pick up on this as he averted his eyes to the side and his brow drew together. He seeped guilt from every pore. "Apparently." He mumbled. "All the more reason we need to get that thing off you." He continued as he raised his head. "As a matter of fact, I'll be right back. I'm thinking maybe if that sword in the other room could break the chain, it would break the spell." Dean said, his voice rising with realization and sudden hope. He scrambled out of his chair, a gleam in his eye that hadn't been there before. Sam couldn't help but to calm slightly at the idea. After all, maybe it would work. Cas shot a glance at Sam and followed Dean loyally out of the room. Cas had always had a strong bond with Dean and the sight made Sam smirk.

"You, uhh, feeling alright, Sam?" Jade's sudden words startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to her and reluctantly took in her expression. There was a pinch of fear, but mostly discomfort and worry. "Are you scared of me?" He blurted out. He regretted the question as soon as it was out. "I-sorry I didn't mean to-umm-I mean, you don't have to answer that. I'd probably be scared of me." He said with an awkward, humorless chuckle. Jade's voice was completely serious and sincere when she answered, "no. You just found out what you are, Sam, who am I to judge you for something you didn't choose?" She chewed on her lip as Sam gaped with astonishment. He decided then that he liked this girl with the short hair and caramel eyes. "Plus, I honestly can't stop seeing you as the confused amnesiac that just wanted his brother back." She added with a light blush coating her cheeks. She had to be freaked the hell out about this yet she managed to stay calm and have a rational conversation. She would have made a good hunter. The thought caught him off guard and Sam grinned sheepishly at her. "Wish I could remember." He said with a short smile. "Guess I'm just forgetting everything lately." He mumbled with a half shrug. "It'll come back to you. Just be patient." Jade informed him kindly. Sam's head snapped up at a crunching, breaking sound. Jade's neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, her eyes forever staring and empty. Her body slumped out of the chair and to the ground with a heavy thud. Sam felt chills run across his skin as he hopped to his feet, his hunter instincts kicking in. The demon in a leather coat with bright pink lipstick wiped her hands on her jeans as she stared disgustedly at the girl she had just killed. 

Sam was flooded with rage and grief for the girl he had barely known as he lunged forward, but the demon's coal eyes flicked up, a malicious smirk overpowering the rest of her features. There was a sudden, hot pain in his stomach and a figure appeared in front of him. Sam grunted at a sharp weapon digging into his organs and he focused his blurring vision on a grim-looking Crowley. "What a shame. You could've been so useful, moose. Unfortunately, I can't let that brother of yours use you against me. Oh well, better to dispose of a Winchester than try to use one, eh, Sam?" Crowley said conversationally. And then he had blinked out, leaving the knife protruding from Sam's stomach. He almost felt the desire to hysterically giggle at the realization of how often he had been stabbed lately. He yanked the knife away and a poison like fire spread through him. He fell to the floor and before he knew it, he was staring up at the ceiling. He held the knife over his eyes, his hand was shaking almost too badly to see it clearly. It was a simple angel blade with demonic symbols of all sorts carved into it. A nice, deadly, fatal weapon for a half angel, half demon...thing. It clattered to the ground as the blinding pain caused him to convulse. There were footsteps and Dean was bent over him, Cas too, their expressions wild and terrified. He tried speaking, but his words caught in his throat along with warm, thick liquid that tasted like copper. Blood flew from his lips as he sputtered on half-formed words. He was desperate to say goodbye, he couldn't leave without a goodbye and panic that he wouldn't have time was eating at him. His nerves sang with torture as his own blood fell back on his face in tiny specks. Every feeling was amplified, every touch a million needles. He was in Dean's arms before he knew it.

Dean looked broken, dead, miserable. The sensation of his arms around Sam was agony, but Sam lifted his hand and tugged weakly on the fabric of Dean's coat. He had to say goodbye, had to. He couldn't leave his brother here alone. He clung to life desperately as he choked and gagged on his blood. There were thick tears rolling down Dean's cheeks now and his eyes were bloodshot. He moves his lips and spoke directly to Sam, to his dying brother that refused to leave until he could fucking say goodbye. "Hey, Sammy, I'm here." Dean assured him as his voice cracked. "It's okay, Sam. Just be calm, you hear me? Be calm. I'm right here, Sammy." He whispered with more fear than Sam had ever seen on him. A wave of tranquil feeling washed over him and his thoughts lightened, the pain becoming less intense. The anxiety and need to get out that last word faded away and Sam stared up at Dean's trembling form. His vision wavered and his eyes travelled to the light ceiling. It would be okay. Dean had Cas and he would be alright and wherever Sam went, it didn't matter. Now he didn't have to be a monster. He was free of his tainted body dragging him down with the impure demon blood. His lips twitched up. There was a woman with light blonde hair and a white night gown smiling lovingly at him. Her eyes were watery, but they were tears of joy. There was a name on sam's lips. "Jess." He whispered, yet the sound was as if it were being screamed into a megaphone. Behind him were other familiar faces. He recognized Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, dad, mom, Adam, and in the back far corner, a girl with short hair and caramel eyes. Sam lost the sensation of Dean's arms wrapped tightly around him as he died smiling.


End file.
